


Onde Termina o Céu

by RushAndTomatoJuice



Series: Lucifer Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Canon Divergence, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Dan the Douche, Deckerstar - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Bingo (Lucifer TV), Lucifer Bingo 2019 (Lucifer TV), Pre Season 1, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, The Author Loves Lucifer's Eyes, and other supernatural stuff, lots and lots of feelings, prompt: au urban fantasy, season 1 Dan, season 1 rewrite, there are witches, we all know how that one goes down, word count: 90k - 100k
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 95,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RushAndTomatoJuice/pseuds/RushAndTomatoJuice
Summary: Chloe Decker, badass – if somewhat generally hated by her coworkers – LAPD detective, had lived most of her life in blissful ignorance. She’d stopped believing in magic when she was seven. It was not how the world worked. She knew that just as much as the next person.She was a woman of logic. Her entire police career had been built around it, her life depended on it, especially after the Universe had decided to take her dad away from her.So it was just her luck that a stranger who called himself the devil would waltz into her life and turn it upside down.Round four of Lucifer Bingo 2019





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE TRANSLATION: Where The Sky Ends
> 
> The title comes from a peom by Cecília Meirelles:  
"Don't say where the day ends,  
Where the night begins.  
Don't speak in vain,  
The words of the world.  
Don't say where the Earth begins,  
Where the sky ends.  
Don't say until where you are you,  
Don't say from where you are God.  
Don't speak in vain.  
Get rid of the sad vanity of speaking.  
Think, completely silent,  
Until the glory of being silent,  
Without thinking."
> 
> For the Lucifer Bingo 2019  
Prompt: AU Urban Fantasy
> 
> This has not been betaed
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot

The rich, moist smell of earth just after rain was the first thing Chloe noticed. It clung to the room in front of her, overlapping even the coppery smell of blood and the oddly familiar stink of decomposing flesh.

The tiny room before her was more of a botanical garden then a proper apartment. Plants and bonsais and small, potted bushes filled the walls, flower pots adorned tables and shelves. A constant breeze was sweeping through an open window, making the leaves hustle in the most calming way only nature provided.

Tiny waterfalls placed around the open plan mimicked the sounds of a distant running river, building up the picture of a forest the small apartment painted, even more so when she noticed the rich, dark brown dirt scattered around the flooring.

The room had been a calming sanctuary in the middle of downtown LA. An escape from the modernity and the pollution that chased you anywhere in the city outside. But despite the calmness it seemed to spur, Chloe felt as if there was something wrong with it – and, surprisingly, it didn’t seem to come from the body lying in the middle of the room.

Ella was already examining the victim and taking pictures of the scene when Chloe approached her. Every step forward she took, the heavier the air seemed to grow.

“Hey, Ella. What have we got here?”

“Victim here is Brendan Berthou, 29. Time of death seems about yesterday between 1 and 3 AM.” Ella provided as Chloe crouched by her side.

She let her eyes roam the body as she worked on putting on her gloves. Brendan was lying on his back, dried blood trails running from his nose, his eyes and his ears. His arms were covered in tattooed symbols, his hands in dirt. Other than that, he was unharmed.

“Cause of death?” Chloe asked, her voice sounding raspier than she’d expected it to, her eyes eerily fixed on the victim’s strange tattoos.

“Still unknown.” Ella’s words broke the spell she seemed to be put under and Chloe raised her eyes, surprised. “I know, blood coming from every orifice in his face seems pretty obvious, but it doesn’t seem to be related to the why he died.” Ella answered, her eyebrows furrowing the same way as Chloe’s.

She checked his overall appearance one more time. No apparent wounds or blood, no strange discolorations to his skin or redness in his eyes. Somehow, her gaze ended up at Brendan’s inked arms again, and there was something to them, some semblance to something Chloe could swear she’d seen before, if she could just remember...

That felling made her uncomfortable, a sick wave settling over her stomach. It was panicking, frankly, to be sure she knew it and yet not remember why.

Chloe got up from her crouch abruptly, forcibly breaking eye contact with the tattoos. She decided to check in on the rest of the room, instead. Preferably as far away from the body as she could get.

She was sure she was getting crazy when some of the plants there spurred that same eerily recollection in her. And Chloe had never been more grateful to hear someone call her away before, even if it was _him_.

Dan was standing at the front door, a pleased smile on his face that made her mouth taste bitter. She walked to meet him, anger and annoyance disputing a place inside her, making her forget all about the uneasiness and the electric shock this scene had caused in her.

“_Dan_.” Chloe greeted him with barely restrained rage as she stood in front of him, blocking as much of his view as she could. Yes, she was that petulant these days when it came to him. Frankly, it was getting pathetic. “What are you doing here? The Lieutenant said this is _my_ crime scene.”

“Geez, Chlo’. Just dropped by to see how you were doing.” He replied with his ‘victimized face’ – the one he was sure to put on whenever they fought to pretend he was the one wronged – which only got her even angrier at him. “It’s your third solo scene since, you know… and I thought you could use the help. Especially after what happened last time.” Dan left his statement ringing in the air, his head shaking disapprovingly.

“I’m well aware of what happened last time, but you and I both know it wasn’t my fault.” Chloe’s eyes fell away from his, unable to take more pity and disapproval from him. She knew he was only doing it to put her down, but no matter how many times Chloe told herself that, her colleague’s laughter and disapproving stares were still too fresh in her mind. “I know we’re unofficial partners, but I can handle this on my own. So, _please_, leave.”

“Alright, alright.” Dan relented as he raised his arms in surrender. He didn’t seem convinced in the least and she knew he’d nose his way into her case eventually, but for the moment, he was gone. And she’d damn sure relish in that.

* * *

The remaining hours of her workday had gone by frustratingly uneventful.

Chloe had spent the better part of her afternoon searching for any traces of their victim online, but Brendan Berthou might as well have been a ghost. There were no records of him on the internet, no social media accounts, no file in the police database, no known relatives, no nothing.

The final report on the crime scene had also ended up being a huge pile of nothing, so Chloe really had nothing to go on, since Ella’s lab results would only be ready the next morning. There were no more sources to drown, and forcing her mind to keep working on nothing would take her nowhere.

Surrendering to the situation, Chloe gathered her things and climbed the stairs to leave, doing her best to ignore Dan’s stare all the way out.

He’d cornered her on the breakroom after she’d arrived from the crime scene earlier to make sure she knew she _ ‘needs his help, Chlo’’_, and that _ ‘he’s only doing what’ he knows is best for her’_.

It made her sick more than it made her mad, and for all his talk of wanting to mend their relationship, Dan certainly seemed keen on infuriating her even more. She really had no idea what had come to her to make her want to try to get back together.

Simply sitting in traffic already sucked, but her phone kept vibrating this time, with upcoming messages and voicemails, all from Dan. And Chloe just _knew_ what they were saying, even without checking. It would be just like her previous case. His texts would have his opinions on _her_ case, step-by-step instructions on how to solve it, some gloat that he’d done it without being lead detective on the case and how she just couldn’t work without his help. 

And just like last time, she wouldn’t be bothering to answer them.

It was making her go crazy, being in an enclosed space with her buzzy phone filled with Dan weighting her down even more. So much so, that she considered throwing her phone out of the window, just so she could have some silence.

If Chloe was ever honest with herself, in moments like those she wondered how she’d ever fallen in love with him and all his presumptuousness.

The jammed drive to her house had done nothing to dissuade her nerves, with the unexpected traffic only adding to the list of things weighting her down. Chloe kicked the front door shut on her way in and made a beeline to her bedroom – _her mother’s bedroom_, she reminded herself. The beach house was just a temporary fix.

She hadn’t been paying attention, her might lost at some thought or anther while she climbed the stairs, but when she reached the top of the stairs, something changed. Chloe haltered at the entrance to the hallway, her eyes scanning the whole expense of the small space that led to the few rooms on the second floor. 

There was a weight to the air, a heaviness that set her down, exactly like what had happened to her at that crime scene earlier. Almost as if the air was filled with, with...

Her eyes began moving on their own, her gaze stopping at the ceiling, on the trapdoor that led to the attic. All the weight that was filling the air came crashing down at once and then lifted again not a second after. If Chloe had blinked, she’d be doubting it had even happened.

But she hadn’t blinked, and she wasn’t imagining the restless energy that took over her. Her hands couldn’t stay still for long, a tingling taking over them before it spread to her arms. Chloe took a step forward before she noticed what she was doing and forced herself to stop.

She was just being stupid, that was all. It had to be. Trapdoors couldn’t make people feel that, and neither could the air. Chloe shook her head and continued on her way to her bedroom, keen on forgetting all about that.

And she had. No tingling’s had spread through her fingers and the air was light, the same way no more things trapped her gaze. Life was just the same, plain and old. Pretending nothing had happened worked, until her eyes found that one picture, and it came back to the forefront of her mind.

Chloe had just settled on the couch with the leftovers from her previous dinner when she’d noticed it. It wasn’t remarkable at all, just an old, forgotten memory atop the mantel on a fireplace no one ever used.

The photo was old, the wooden frame around it even older. It was small, its color had long vanished, the glass on the frame wasn’t so clear anymore. It wasn’t a remarkable piece in between all the others, but it was the one that had caught her gaze.

She got up, put her dinner on the coffee table and stepped closer to better examine it. It was from when Chloe was a child, barely five years old. She was sitting on the floor, her eyes totally mesmerized by a leather bound book, her grandmother’s blurry figure sitting behind her.

The framed photo spurred something inside her, and before she noticed, she was climbing the stairs and stopping just beneath the trapdoor, her eyes trained on it.

The air weighed her down just like before, the same pressure the tattooed symbols had exerted on her, and it made goosebumps run across her skin, but it was no match to the tension she was feeling. Chloe jumped and pulled the latch down, opening the trapdoor and letting the built-in stairs unfold. As she climbed the few steps into the attic, she felt her senses going into overdrive and then quieting down all at once into an unperceivable level, almost as if something else had taken over control and caused them to fail.

Dust flew with the unusual movement, filling the air and clinging all around her. It caught on her throat making it harder for Chloe to breathe between all the fits of coughing. When she opened her eyes, it brought tears to prickle her lashes.

The place in front of her was that of a movie.

A skylight high in the ceiling let in the moonlight and it illuminated the dust particles dancing in the air, complementing the eerie feeling of the room. 

Chloe had been expecting piles of boxes filled with junk and old memories no one cared to remember, and yes, there were boxes, probably filled with junk, but there was more than that. 

The space wasn’t all that big as she thought it would be. The ceiling was low, especially on the edges of them room where floor to ceiling bookcases lines most of the walls. There was a covered floor couch on one of the corners, portraits and books and burned candles and what used to be plants scattered everywhere.

It was all completely covered in dust, but it felt like it had been lived.

Chloe foolishly reached for the light switch on the closest wall, but switched her phone lantern on instead when the bulb, unsurprisingly, failed to turn on. She didn’t really know what she was doing up there, she just knew she had to be there.

She let her eyes survey the entire expanse of the room one more time, and sneezed when the dust caught on her nose. From the boxes on the far corner to the bookcases embedded in dust, it were the weird crystals in what seemed like a spice hack that caught her attention.

Chloe went for the books instead, feeling like there were too many weird things in her life already. She slowly stretched her hand towards one of them, the leather bound one from the picture, and the moment she touched it, it was electrifying.

And not just that, it _burned_. The book burned the tips of her fingers and Chloe flinched away from it. Which was stupid because books didn’t burn people, but, whatever. Her mind was still trying to make sense of gaze-trapping objects, so...

It was probably just her imagination.

Chloe decided to go for the boxes then, since it would probably be safer. She sat cross-legged on the floor and opened the first box in front of her, prepared to go through all the junk she was sure her mother had stored there.

She went through half a dozen boxes before she got ahold of herself. There had been as much junk as she’d expected to find, but, among all the unnecessary things, she’d sometimes find a drawing she’d made for her mother, or one of her father’s trinkets that made it worth all the dirt she was getting on her.

The box filled with old pictures had been set aside from the others so she could take it downstairs with her to better look at them. There had also been a box with her dad’s name on it that had made her heartbeats kick up their pace.

It had been filled with his old possessions: his old LAPD hoodie, his unit’s graduation ring, some pictures of him and his partners with uniforms, and his badge. It had been a trip down memory lane, remembering each of his police things. It had made her chest tight with sorrow, but it hadn’t been a bad thing.

Chloe missed her dad, and it was okay.

Or it had been, until she’d noticed the blood on his nametag. That box had been forcefully closed and pushed away as tears freely fell down, dampening her dusty cheeks.

The next boxed had been in impulse, until one of them stood out to her. It trapped her gaze the way the books had, but instead of the cautionary, almost protective, warning, it seemed inviting.

Chloe reached for the lid, apprehension settling in her too painfully to be ignored. Seconds ticked by before she had the courage to open the lid. She adjusted her phone light, and saw scribblings on it. A name.

‘Shae’. Her grandmother.

Now filled with curiosity, Chloe scurried to open the box, but she never got to see what was inside. Her world faded out into sudden darkness.

* * *

Chloe woke up with a maddening itch on her nostrils. She sneezed and sneezed and sneezed, so much it seemed to be doing more harm than any good. Once it finally passed and she could breathe again, she was surprised to find herself at the attic. And even more so when she noticed the sunrays filtering in through the skylight.

She grabbed her phone to check the time, and it came as no surprise when it didn’t turn on. Using the flashlight all night to look through boxed had drained her battery was it was to be expected.

Chloe hurried to get up on her feet before she climbed down the stairs and went straight to her bathroom. She was completely covered in dust, desperate for a shower. And breakfast. She was also desperate for breakfast, she thought when her stomach growled. 

But her plans were cut short when she checked the time on her alarm clock on the bedside table before heading to the bathroom. She was due to work in twenty.

Chloe plugged her phone to charge and got inside the shower, hoping her short time frame would force her to only focus on the work ahead, and not on her burnt fingertips, or the lump in her forehead. Or how she had no memory of ever looking inside that box.

* * *

“So, uh... I got the report on Brendan Berthou, but it’s no help.” Ella apologized as she neared Chloe’s desk and handed her the report before taking a seat.

Chloe threw the wrapping of her lemon bar in the trash can before accepting it as she hurried finish her breakfast. She’d been as quick as humanly possible, but there was no way she could have changed and had breakfast all in the twenty minute time before she had to start her shift.

Save a few awkwardness, she’d mostly made it to the precinct in one piece, mouth full of food notwithstanding.

“What do you mean?” Chloe asked as her eyes scanned the report. She had been just about the middle of it when she felt a presence looming by her side and her concentration slipped away.

“Morning, Chlo’. Did you check my texts last night? Pretty sure I just nailed your case.” Dan interrupted them as he joined their conversation, beaming smile and condescension in just the right amount to make her annoyance flare back up again. “Ooh, tox screen report?” He reached for the file and took it out of her grasp while she was still reading to take a look at it himself. As if his opinion was the important one. “Which poison did he use?”

“Poison? What do you mean, dude?” Ella asked Dan, her own brows furrowing now. “Tox screen is clear.”

Ella’s words made him look up from the file immediately, his features holding an incredulous look. Dan let out an awkward half laugh, like he was expecting Ella to just be joking with him, but it wasn’t the case. “How can it be clean? It has to be some sort of poison.” He was baffled now, looking between both of them, waiting for the case to make sense. “Probably administered it himself, with all those weird plants he had. Probably from one of them.”

Chloe blinked multiple times as she waited for his words to make sense, but that was asking too much. The opinions spilling out of his mouth...

It was understandable why he’d thought of poisoning, she’d thought about it herself. But everything after that was just complete crap. How he’d even gone from owning plants to committing suicide was a mystery to her.

Sometimes she wondered if he ever even tried to properly close his cases.

“That’s what I was about to tell you.” Ella said, addressing Chloe again. “Blood work, tox screen… It’s all clear. Every test I ran came back negative. I really don’t know what caused the bleeders on his face. As far as I can tell, he might as well have been killed by magic.”

Chloe felt the blood freezing inside her veins, her heart stopping mid beat, the chill running down his spine. Ella’s words made her flinch. They made her tense, just thinking about that box and the books and the electricity in the air...

“The victim, Brandon…” Chloe begun, unsure as to what she wanted. “He had some books and, and… Did anyone check them?” She was anxious as she waited for a reply, her gut telling her it was the right direction to follow and to stay away at the same time.

“I don’t think so.” Dan answered. “The apartment is probably still being held as a crime scene.”

“Okay, good. Good.” Chloe replied absentmindedly, unplugging her phone from where it was still being charged and getting her car keys, ready to leave. “I’ll head over, then. See if I can find anything else there to go on. Thanks for the report, Ella.” 

She was almost at the top of the stairs when she heard Dan call for her, about to make her day even worse. “Chloe, wait up. I’m going with you.”

* * *

“He was a great kid, Detective. He was just really lonely.” Mrs. Robbins, the super, said as she unlocked the door to Brendan’s apartment, her hand lingering on the knob for a moment as she set her sad eyes on Chloe. “I really don’t know who could want to harm him.”

“Thank you for the information, Mrs. Robbins, and for letting us in. If you think about anything else, please give me a call.” She thanked the older woman, placing a hand on her arm for comfort before reaching inside her jacket and giving the super her card.

Chloe watched Mrs. Robbins leave before turning to Dan and bending to pass beneath the yellow tape blocking the way in.

The apartment looked exactly like it had the day before, sans body, of course. The plants were still there and the books were still there, but the omnipresent heaviness in the air seemed to have disappeared, leaving enough room for Chloe to breathe.

She rounded the small apartment before making a reluctant way to the small bookcase by the desk. There was this _pull_ on one of the books, as if it was calling her, wanting her to touch it. It wasn’t her gut that was pointing her, but it felt as if it was, which was why she hadn’t completely rejected the notion at first glance.

But it wasn’t as if she was going to downright believe it as well.

Chloe, like a good rational woman she was, made an incredible job of ignoring it until the very last moment. Which was when she searched all others and didn’t find a thing.

Her eyes went to the small handbook at last, and Chloe took a tentative step towards it, trying to control the impulse she had to just jump at it.

“It has to be suicide.” Dan’s voice sounded just behind her and Chloe flinched away from him. As absorbed as she was by the notebook, she hadn’t heard him approach her, she hadn’t even felt him standing far closer than he should have when they were separated. It was making her uncomfortable. “There’s no other explanation.”

“What?” Chloe asked, still a bit out of herself. She took a step away from him, resuming her personal space and keeping her back at the handbook.

“I mean, there’s no signs of a break in or forced entry, no signs of struggle.” He numbered them on his fingers as he spoke, pointing his free hand to the door and to the place Brendan’s body had been found.

“Maybe the victim knew the killer.” Chloe offered, taking a half step back when Dan threatened to take another one forward, completely oblivious to her discomfort.

“Super just said he was a loner.” He threw it back at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world, solid evidence to back up his crazy ideas.

“So? Doesn’t mean he couldn’t know the killer.” Chloe pointed out, _not believing_ she had to keep pointing him the obvious. It annoyed her, deep into her bones. If she looked through his cases, would she find these lines of thinking? Or did he just use them when it was with her?

Honestly, she didn’t know which one was the worst.

“No, it was a suicide. I know it was.” He gritted out, his patience running thin. Chloe had expected this behavior of him. When Dan thought he was right, no one could change his mind on that, sometimes not even clear facts.

“If it was a suicide, then why was he standing in the middle of the room? Why not sitting on the couch or on his bed or… And where’s the note?” Chloe was ready for this. She’d fight him on it, because nothing, _nothing_, pointed to that, except maybe his ego.

“Well, I can’t do all the job for you, Chloe!” Dan burst, widening his eyes and spreading his arms to the side, a nerve pulsing on his forehead from the outburst of anger.

Chloe was taken aback by his tone and she took a half step back in surprise. Her movement made Dan realize what he’d just said, and his features changed in a second from anger to regret.

“Okay, then.” She said bitterly, lowering her gaze to the floor. She knew he wasn’t right, she really knew, but it hit down to the very core of all her insecurities. He’d made her doubt herself like all the other officers had, especially after what happened at her last case.

Chloe knew she couldn’t succumb to popular opinion, she knew they were wrong, and she had to keep going for her father. But being constantly surrounded by the judgement… It made it really hard for her to keep going. It made it hard to like the job.

The worst part? Lots of officers there knew her dad, had been friends with him, served with him, and their opinions, their judgement... and it was tainting her memory of him.

“Chloe…” Dan tried, reaching forward, his hand involving her wrist. She yanked it out of his grasp and took a step back, her eyes wide. The bookshelf was just behind her then. “C’mon, Chloe, you know I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Why did you even came along, then?” It came out as a whisper. She could feel the tears burning at the back of her eyes, and Chloe absolutely hated that she was an angry crier.

“Chlo’-” Dan tried to step forward again, but Chloe raised a hand for him to stop and turned to look away. At least he understood her need for space and took a step back, but he didn’t move any further.

“Just go wait outside and let me do my job, okay?” She made it even clearer that she didn’t want him there, couldn’t have him there if she wanted to focus on her work. Chloe turned around and focused on the bookshelf until she heard his steps walking away on the wooden floor.

Chloe took a couple minutes to herself to get her balance back before she dared to reach for the book. It didn’t burn her already burnt fingertips when she reached for it, which wasn’t a great shocker. Books didn’t burn people.

Her fingers had just been an exception, maybe. Maybe she even burned her fingers making dinner and hadn’t noticed until the book thing. It were really faint marks, after all. Just a little bit of red and a tiny bit of skin peeling.

Opening the book, Chloe realized it wasn’t a book. It seemed more of a journal, in a language she couldn’t quite read. But there was a picture clipped to one of the pages, and that she could understand well.

It showed three people. A woman and a man sitting on armchairs and another man sitting on the floor, leaning his back on the end table between the chairs. The lamp on top of it gave the picture a warm, yellow glow, making the scene inviting.

The man on the floor was smiling and looking to the camera, and the one sitting on the armchair seemed to be rolling his eyes. But the woman on the other one, she was leaning forward, her eyes closed and hiding her laugh behind a cup of tea.

And she seemed familiar. The picture seemed familiar. It was just like the one on her house. Which was why it was familiar. The people on the picture seemed young, much younger than she remembered, but the woman was definitely her grandmother.

Chloe turned it around and found scribbling in the back. A coffee stain made the ink blur and she squinted her eyes to see what might have been written there, but all she could make out was ‘Sha..., ... and ...jah, Sil...od, 1958’.

An image blinked on her mind’s eye and was gone as suddenly as it came. Chloe looked around, startled, but nothing had changed around her. She focused her eyes back on the photo, ignoring her raising pulse. Another flash came and went in a second, but this memory was more persistent.

There were rows of high bookshelves, and it all smelled of paper and ink and she could almost see a sign outside the panned glass windows. It seemed warm and inviting, and the world around her started spinning and Chloe had to grab the shelf in front of her to stop her from falling.

It creaked under her grip but it held her up. She took deep breaths and tried to center her mind back into the now.

“Hey, you found anything?” Dan asked quietly a few second later, stepping back into the room. 

“Maybe.” Chloe answered absentmindedly, raising the journal for him to see what she meant, but not turning around or showing him the photo. He wouldn’t understand that. She didn’t herself. “I’m not sure.”

“Take it with you, then. We should head back to the precinct.” Dan turned on his heels and made for the door, suspiciously side eyeing the plants as he passed by them.

Chloe pocketed the photo before placing the journal on an evidence bag. She turned around and left the apartment, feeling for the first time that she had a clue. Her gut had told her so, and it never lied to her.

* * *

A chime rang loud in the air when Chloe opened the door to the small bookshop, turning the front desk man’s attention to her. His eyes scanned her, and he adjusted the glasses up his nose before giving her a displeased look.

She ignored him for the moment, choosing to focus on the shop, instead. It was smaller than she remembered, but it definitely seemed bigger on the inside. Several rolls of shelves lined the main space of the store, filled to the top with books. They gave this ancient smell to the air, of papers and ink, and Chloe breathed in deep. Libraries had always calmed her down.

When she looked back out of the window, the small sign for ‘Silverwood Bookshop’ was visible through it, just like in her memory.

Chloe breathed out slowly, trying to set a normal rhythm, but it was difficult when the front desk man didn’t stop staring at her. There was something about his gaze that had her senses working into overdrive, this tension accumulating on the base of her spine that was almost painful. The man cleared his throat to attract her eyes, and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

And Chloe would have liked to say that she’d steeled herself and went to talk to the man, it was what she’d gone there to do, after all, but was she did, instead, was hurry behind one of the bookshelves, where he couldn’t see her anymore.

She knew she was being stupid, it was just all the weird things that had happened to her the last couple of days that were piling up and making her see things. Of course it was that, she was just anxious with the case, and her coworkers, and all this mess with Dan...

That was it. Because, in the real world, things didn’t trap people’s gazes, and books didn’t burn, and boxes didn’t make you pass out. And weird front desk men didn’t get all her instincts going haywire.

Chloe was just being weird, she was sure of it. But she couldn’t ignore that the further away from him she was, the more it seemed like she could breathe again. His eyes had built a pressure in her ribcage, making it uncomfortable to draw in air, but the distance had made it duller. It only meant she was almost at the back of the shop, and she wouldn’t be getting the answers she’d gone there to find.

That faint pressure turned into a tingling that began spreading through her entire body as Chloe continued to walk further into the back and turned on a corner of shelves to find someone standing there. She’d been apprehensive at first, but this man’s presence didn’t make her want to run for the hills like the front desk man’s had. It was alluring, somehow. Inviting.

This one was standing maybe a little too close to the shelf to be comfortable, but it was just the right place for the book he had in his hands to be perfectly illuminated. 

He was tall, six feet or so, with pale skin and a dark suit that fitted perfectly to his body, accentuating his slim waist and his shoulder line. From the little bit she could see, with his head turned down and his focus on the book, his eyes were the deepest of browns, chocolate and round, expressive. Just like she liked them. His brown hair was styled to perfection, complementing his look. It was maybe too perfect for her taste – Chloe had always preferred her men a bit messy because of her.

_Not_ that that would be happening here, she rushed to correct herself. This was a stranger, it didn’t matter what she liked. _No musing over strangers_. It was a rule, a command to herself that she would be following no matter what, even when it came to pretty strangers. _Especially_ when it came to that.

Chloe took a deep breath to center herself again, but she didn’t have a chance to leave. The stranger’s eyes rose from the book on his hands and drifted to her, running along her from head to toe. It made her freeze for a moment, until he let his eyes drop back to his book with a smirk on his face. _No musing over strangers_, Chloe reminded herself as she forced her feet to keep moving, not even if the stranger in question didn’t seem to have a problem with it.

She continued on her way, focused on forgetting all about the men in the bookshop. She’d gone there looking for answers, and if her fragmented memory served her right, she was on the right path.

Only a couple bookshelves later, she found it. An open space in the very back, where the photo in her jacket pocket was taken. Chloe approached it slowly, her fingers running through the book spines on the shelves by her side. The armchairs, the shop, the books, they looked exactly like they did in her memory, and maybe that was why she didn’t dare get closer.

Chloe just kept standing there, staring at the armchairs and picturing her grandma there, smiling like she had been on the photo, but she didn’t dare come closer. That was when the tingling came back, or rather, got stronger, since it hadn’t left her since she’d laid eyes on the stranger.

She looked around, her eyes scanning the bookshelves, until they met a dark blur walking behind the one she was touching, and she followed his movements through the small creak above a lower set of books. He was tall, six-three, probably, so all she could see were his hands running over the books as he looked for the one he wanted and his chest. His really nice hands, long fingers and short clipped nails, and his chest, beneath his almost see through, white button up.

Chloe shook her head and focused her eyes back on the books in front of her. No inappropriate thoughts with strangers, she reminded herself. She hated when people did that to her, so she wouldn’t do it to someone else. 

And while Dan and she were taking some time, they were – probably? – still dating, right? She didn’t know, they hadn’t talked about it, but she was there for the case, after all. Work, not dating. _Definitely_ not dating.

So she focused on the books she’d been staring for a while now, but most of them weren’t even in English and looked older than her. Of course she’d end up on the foreign section of the shop. That was just her luck.

Her eyes continued to roam around, but she couldn’t make sense to any of it, not even the ones that seemed to be in English. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before.

Chloe had been focusing on the books, trying very hard to, at least, but somewhere along the way, her eyes decided to watch the hot stranger on the other side of the shelf again.

There was just _something_ about him, something that made it impossible for her to look away. It was an invisible pull, but it was like a light, like he was glowing.

It was nice, and warming, and calm, and Chloe raised to her tiptoes to see him through the cracks on the books a shelf higher. She could partially see his face now. His eyes were looking down and she could see the hints of a stubble, some freckles and his long nose. He sure painted a pretty picture. A _really_ pretty picture.

Chloe had been stuck staring at his long eyelashes, so it took her a moment to notice when they changed. She blinked a couple times, but the sight in front of her didn’t vanish. He’d raised his eyes from the book, and they were now bored deeply in hers.

That tingle came back full force, spreading from beneath her breast bone, but it was no match to the heat rising up to her cheeks. Chloe fell to the flat of her feet in a foolish attempt to hide, but it would be asking too much that it would be successful.

His steps echoed around too loud in her head until they stopped when he reached her side. It was the most excruciating sound in the entire universe. Of course he couldn’t just ignore it and let her go on with her life with one less embarrassment in it. He had to go talk to her.

The stranger leaned his shoulder on the shelf and bored his eyes on her, a calm way to his posture that made her nervous. Chloe went the extra mile to assure she wouldn’t look at him, hoping that her obvious avoidance of him would send him away, but he didn’t get the message, or he got it and chose to ignore it, instead.

The stranger kept shifting his head to this side and that, searching for her gaze, and it wasn’t supposed to be cute at all, but it was. She could feel his eyes burning a path on her as he watched her.

“What?” Chloe acknowledged him with a side glance, her voice maybe a bit too tight. She only hoped her cheeks weren’t as red as she felt them.

He let out a deep, rich chuckle and she could _feel_ the smile growing on his face without even looking at him. “Feel free to admire me.” He said, a British accent falling from his lips, and it briefly crossed her mind that he couldn’t get any more perfect.

Chloe’s eyes widened when she processed his words and she hurried to turn to him, a denial already falling from her lips. “What? No! No, no…” She tried to stop him from going further, her eyes finally on him, her cheeks definitely red now. Her hands were raised, waving as she tried to debunk his ridicule notion. “I’m not. I wasn’t, I-”

He let out a hearty laugh that took over his eyes, making them wrinkle on the sides. His laid back response about a stranger _‘admiring’_ him got her less worried about it all, but it didn’t make her cheeks less red. His gleam turned into curiosity as he continued to watch her, which made Chloe want to drop her eyes again.

Her eyes were still wary on him, though, and she began getting progressively nervous as he stared at the lump in her forehead.

“What’s the story there?” He asked, pointing at the same place on his forehead. Chloe raised a hand to touch the lump, having forgotten it existed for a while, but she didn’t miss the way his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed her burnt fingertips.

“Oh. It was, uh... just an... accident at... home.” The heat in her cheeks grew even more if that was possible when the worry disappeared from his eyes as they traveled down her body and back up, a hungry gaze taking over him as he undoubtedly thought about taking her home.

Chloe rolled her eyes. She had a feeling people did that a lot around him. And while it was definitely creepy that a stranger was thinking about taking her home, she didn’t think he would ever harm her, and it wasn’t like she couldn’t defend herself if it came to that.

But she couldn’t deny the thought had crossed her own mind.

His smile grew, lighting up all of his features. It was like he knew exactly what she had been thinking about. He tongued his cheek, eyes fixed on hers, and he opened his mouth to say something, but he didn’t have the chance.

That same pressure from before started pushing at her insides, a cold chill seeping into her bones, and from the change in his posture, Chloe could tell he’d felt that, too.

The desk man passed by them pushing a stroller filled with books, his eyes fixed on her. She could swear the atmosphere had changed, gotten dimmer somehow, charged with energy. And the pretty stranger changed, too.

His flirty posture was replaced by a protectiveness that seemed to be emanating from him, his shoulders going stiff, eyes wide open and alert. And while it should be calming, his protectiveness of her, this potential violence Chloe felt in the air had her instincts working into overdrive, anxiety rising in her until her eyes found the exit.

“Maybe it’s time you go.” The stranger told her without looking at her, his eyes trained on the man pretending to look the books through.

“Yeah.” She agreed before she started walking towards the exit, not sparing a second thought to the action. There was no reason for her to stay there for longer, not when it disturbed her so much. She’d gone there to look for answers, about her grandmother, about her case, but how would she do that, if she couldn’t even stand to be near the man she should be questioning about.

She was loathe to leave the pretty stranger, though. There was something about him that had drawn her to him, and she couldn’t quite explain it. Chloe looked back one last time before she left, sparing one last glance to the man that had made this experience tolerable. She was pleased to notice he was also watching her go, a smirk in his face.

The tingle came back, and it didn’t leave her this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Trixie in this AU, sorry. I love her character, I just couldn't justify some of Chloe's choices down the road if she had someone that depended on her so much. And as for the timeline: Chloe and Dan aren't married, and Lucifer moved to LA a few years before he did on the show. He owns Lux for about two years when this chapter begins.
> 
> If you see any mistakes, please let me know
> 
> Don't forget to always check beginning notes for additional information. Tags will be updated if needed.


	2. The Stranger

“Hey Chlo’, you still working on that thing?” Dan said in lieu of a greeting as he took a seat by the chair next to her desk. He was heading to get his feet up her desk, but one glare made him stop and he returned his eyes back to his pudding.

“Yeah.” Chloe replied before she let her eyes fall back to the journal on her hands. All the hustle of officers filling the bullpen was giving her a headache, and she just knew Dan would be making it worse. Her shift was almost over, and all she wanted was some peace and quiet so she could think and find the answer she was sure the journal would give her.

But that wasn’t in Dan’s plans. He’d been trying to talk to her all day, and Chloe had done a stellar job at avoiding him. He had that look in his eyes, the one that meant he was going to say things she didn’t want him to say and they’d end up fighting again.

She was trying to reconcile their relationship, she really was, but Dan had a way of getting on her nerves, and she couldn’t handle that in the moment.

“Just making sure I can’t actually read anything on this thing.” Chloe added, her mind replaying the moment he’d yelled at her to do her job. Her eyes rose from the journal and back to his when he didn’t voice his opinions, which was unusual for him. She found him staring intently at his pudding, unable to look back at her. “_What_, Dan? I’m trying to work here.” She threw his _opinion_ on her work back at him and got her eyes back to the journal.

She finally found something on it.

Chloe had read through almost the entire thing, all of it filled with scribbles and words in a language she didn’t understand. But at the very bottom of an unremarkable page, there was a sentence in the cuneiform alphabet. An address by the looks of it.

“It’s just that, some of the guys were wondering when you’re going to close Palmetto.” Dan said, voice small, before he ate a spoonful of pudding, his eyes trained on the cup.

“_What_?” Chloe’s eyes raised to him in a split second, her residual anger getting back at full power. For a second, she forgot all about her case and the first real lead she’d found.

“C’mon, Chlo’. It’s been six weeks! Malcolm’s in a coma, and the doctors said he won’t wake up. You saw what happened on your last case.” Dan tried to reason in a hushed voice, leaning in closer, eyes finally locked on hers. “What difference is it going to make now?”

“The difference, Dan, is that the criminals will go to jail. That the corrupt cops, like Malcolm, will go to jail.” Chloe honestly couldn’t believe she had to keep reminding him of that. She let her eyes fall back down and let out a huff, closing the journal and placing it inside an evidence bag before locking it inside her desk drawer. “Isn’t that enough?” She asked, looking him dead in the eyes.

“He’s not dirty, Chloe! You know that.” Dan chastised her, looking around to see if anyone had overheard her. As always, he was more preoccupied with people’s impressions of them than with catching the criminals. “We worked together long before you even made detective. Don’t you think I’d know if he was?”

Chloe closed her eyes and tried to get her temper back in check. It would do her no good to yell at him when Dan thought he held all the truth in the world. She also knew he was only there to make her feel guilty about her case, and she wouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction, not when he was so clearly wrong.

“Everyone at the station likes him. Haven’t you caused enough bad blood as it is? Aren’t you tired of them hating you, hating _me_?”

“And that’s it.” She announced, getting up and gathering her things to leave. “You’re not worried about me, Dan, or even about justice. You’re worried about you! How it makes you look!” Chloe fixed her eyes on him and Dan at least had the decency of looking guilty. “You’re siding with everyone else instead of me. _Again_.”

“Chloe, c’mon, that’s not true.” Dan grabbed her wrist to forcefully stop her from leaving, but he let it go when she fixed him a stare.

“I have to go.” Chloe walked up the stairs and made for the parking lot, not looking back when he repeatedly called her name. She had an address to check, work to do. Criminals to arrest.

* * *

Chloe’s jittery anxiety was replaced with curiosity the moment she got out of her car. She’d followed the address on the journal, and it had led her to the Eldorado. 

_A bar. _

To say she was surprised... 

It was one of those places you couldn’t find unless you knew exactly where it was. The building itself was completely unremarkable among all the others, the only sign the bar was open being the neon on a darkened window.

Chloe slowly opened the front door and stepped inside, surprised to see the place packed with people. Only a handful of yellowish lights illuminated the place, giving the wooden interior a calming edge, the music playing at just the right volume for it. A dark countertop stretched through most of the main area, with a liquor wall behind it and all the seats taken. The few high tables scattered around were also occupied, with people using the pool table to place their drinks.

There was something in the air that reminded her of the bookshop, only it wasn’t as terrible as that place had been at first. She waited for the pressure to begin pushing at her, for the tension to build in the air, for it to make it harder for her to breathe, but it never happened. Instead, a faint tingle began to spread through her limbs, highly pleasing.

Chloe stared at the crowd for too long, unsure on where to begin. She didn’t know what she should be looking for, all she had was the address, after all. She didn’t even know if this place had any relevance to her case.

Thankfully – or not – destiny decided for her. Just as she was about to turn around and leave, two seats were freed at the bar, and Chloe forced herself to take one of them. She could at least ask the bartender about the victim, see if maybe he was a regular there. It couldn’t hurt to be sure this place really was a dead end.

She made her way through the sea of people and took a seat at the barstool, the other one still empty at her left. The bartender was busy at the other side making drinks, so she signaled him and waited. Chloe was already there, she might as well see this through.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here!” A deep, British voice sounded just behind her ear and Chloe flinched in surprise, turning to see who it was. The pretty stranger from the bookshop was standing behind her, beer glass in hand, still wearing a suit – deep blue with a black shirt this time, but his look was a little more carefree. His top buttons were undone, and his hair was getting free from the gel, letting a few curls show. His smile grew once he noticed she recognized him and he took the free seat by her side. “Tell me, are you following me?”

“What? No!” Chloe defended herself. 

“Right. Just so you know, this probably will end badly.” He took a sip of his beer and eyed her expectantly, like what he’d just said made perfect sense. “I’m like walking heroin.” He continued with his train of thought. “Very habit forming. Never ends well.”

Chloe felt the blood rising to her cheeks, getting what he was saying form context, and their previous encounter. “I’m not following you!” She told him maybe a pitch too high, making some nearby heads turn her way, and the red in her cheeks deepen even more.

“Ooh.” He amused, smiling as she blushed.

“I’m here for work, actually.” Chloe felt the need to share, if only to get herself back on safe grounds. She could _not_ handle him flirting right now.

“In a bar?” He asked, shifting closer to her on his seat, his gaze solely focused on her. And it should be illegal, the way she could _feel_ his voice rumbling through the air.

“Yes.”

“Really? And what exactly does your job require you do in a bar, Ms.…” His tone shifted, getting lower as he shifted even closer. His flirting was so unabashed, but he truly seemed interested – which was probably the play since it looked like flirted with everyone – and that would be her mistake.

“_Detective_.” Chloe pressed, trying to get a step back, even if it was a small one. She reached for her belt and showed him her badge, the low light reflecting on the golden metal. “It’s Detective for you.” 

“Detective!” His brows raised as he repeated her title, and it was bad how good it sounded in his voice. The glee in his eyes only made him look even more genuine, which caused her heart to flutter in response. She had a thing with the cute ones, and his curls... “I like that. Any chance that badge of yours comes with some cuffs?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively a few times, a smirk stretching on his lips.

“It does, actually.” His eyes grew round with surprise when she answered him, like he wasn’t expecting her to. “It also comes with a gun.” She added with a cynical smile that made him chuckle. 

His head tilted to the side as he regarded her, and she could see the thoughts crossing his mind in his eyes. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“Uh, yesterday at the bookshop?” Chloe said the obvious, her brows wrinkling in confusion.

“Not that.” He answered with a dismissive hand gesture, his eyes still focused on solving his mystery. “I mean, I could swear I’ve seen you naked. Have we had sex?”

She blinked a few times, surprised and taken aback by that. She backed away from him and set her eyes on the counter in front of him. She just couldn’t believe the guy. And he had the nerve to look wounded by her sudden reaction, his brows winkled and his lips pulled in a grimace, as if what he’d said really was an honest possibility.

“What? _Are you serious_?” Chloe gritted out. His seemingly genuine honesty was what had kept her from snapping at him, but the silent trust he’d earned at the bookshop crumbled away. Honestly, she felt cheated. She’d even started to like him, and then he had to go and say that.

The tingle she felt, it wasn’t so welcome anymore. 

“That’s a no, then.” He said, masking his hurt with a smile. “I’m sure having sex with you is something I’m not going to forget.” He broke into a grin and reached for his beer. When he turned back to face her there was a thin mustache of foam. 

It made him look like a dork, which was a feeling she had that he was one. He quickly licked it off, and just like that she was gone, her reservations washed away. Chloe liked to think of herself as a good judge of character, and while he seemed like the playboy type, she had a feeling it wasn’t who he was.

And he was a stranger at a bar she would probably never see again, after all. No point in dwelling in his personality and character flaws for too long.

“Well, I’m game if you are.” He continued, the flirty stance back on.

Chloe had a smirk of her own as she leaned into his personal space, ready to play his game. “Not gonna happen.” She whispered, her face so close to his she could actually feel his breath on her lips. He let his tongue out to wet them, his eyes darkening in the low light.

“Hm. We’ll see about that.” He retorted as Chloe got back to her seat, his expression still a bit too fazed. His eyes steeled on her, thoughts crossing a mile, a minute in their brown, until something dawned on him and his features shifted to that open realization Chloe had unfortunately gotten used to. “Oh, _oh_. You’re- You’re…_oh_.”

“Fuck.” Chloe whispered under her breath, turning fully to the bar, unable to look him in the eye. “Seen that, haven’t you.” She began pulling on her fingers, her expression going somber for a minute. Talking to him had actually been nice. Talking to someone who didn’t openly judge her without hearing her side of the story. But as all things in her life, that was about to be ruined as well.

Strangers at bars would be ruined for her.

“You’re…” He continued to trail off in a surprised tone, making Chloe side glance him. His smile had grown so big she thought it would pull at his cheek muscles. 

“Yep.” She replied faintly, knowing he was just waiting for the confirmation.

“That was quite the nude scene.” He said, and Chloe consciously chose to take that as a compliment. The mirth in his eyes made it seem like he was actually amused to recognize her, and not another one of the creepers who’d seen her movie and felt entitled to more of her or to make fun of her.

Just like before, he seemed genuine. He was probably happy that he’d recognized her more than anything else.

The beep in her phone grounded her back to reality, out of the high it had been talking to him. “Alright, I have to go. Duty calls.” Chloe finally found the courage to look him in the eye for the last time as she stood, and she could swear he’d visibly deflated with her upcoming departure. “Take care, I guess?” She offered, unsure as to what to say to a man she would never meet again, even if deep down she wished she would.

Chloe turned on her heels and left, making her way through the crowd of people that kept growing as the moon got higher in the sky.

“Detective, wait!” She heard him call her, but she was already stepping out of the door, no time to turn around and second guess herself.

She stepped into the cool night air and breathed it in. It was getting late, and somehow she’d just gotten herself more work. Chloe had gotten inside her car and was ready to drive off when her phone beeped again with another text.

_Dan: Sorry about earlier. Dinner tomorrow? _

It was good, that Dan had actually thought about apologizing, but Chloe couldn’t bring herself to be excited about that. All that filled her mind was the British not-so-stranger-anymore and their conversation. How she’d felt light for the first time in six weeks.

It wasn’t until she’d gotten home that night that Chloe realized she’d gone to Eldorado looking for answers, and had left with even more questions, and none of them involving her case.

* * *

Chloe rested back on her chair and rolled her neck, trying to stretch the tiredness off of her. The lights on the precinct were few and apart, the night having sent most of the officer’s home by now, but not her. Of course not her.

Only the lieutenant and the few night officers were still filling the precinct. Chloe shouldn’t even be there, her shift had ended hours before, but somehow the pile of paperwork on her desk kept growing. She’d spent her entire day sitting there, writing reports and filling forms, but the moon was up in the sky and she wasn’t anywhere near done.

Her excellent, excellent day had also featured Dan trying to make her close both her cases. She’d tried to avoid him, but there was only so much she could do to hide when she was trapped in her desk.

Chloe was just about to give up and take the papers home with her when her phone buzzed with an incoming text.

_Dan: Closed your case? _   
_Dan: Just got a new one if you want to assist. _

She didn’t have the time to be mad at him for pushing her to close it again. The Lieutenant was at the door of her office, signaling for Chloe to follow her there.

She took a deep breath and walked to the office, taking the offered seat in front of the Lieutenant.

“How is your latest case going, Chloe? Brendan Berthou, right?” Lieutenant Monroe asked as she read through the file, shifting on her seat to rest her elbows on the table.

“Not very good.” Chloe relented. There was no use in lying about the status of her case to the Lieutenant.

“Thought so.” The Lieutenant said in a half whisper, making Chloe jump to the edge of her seat.

“Is there a problem with it?” She asked, nervous, her palms starting to sweat. She couldn’t afford another bad outcome, not at this moment, not since her last case.

“It’s been about a week since you got that case, Chloe. You don’t usually take this long to solve them.” Monroe leaned back on her chair as she regarded Chloe. She knew it was bad, but Olivia didn’t seem to be angry at her for it. “Chloe, do you honestly believe this case can be solved?”

She knew the answer, deep down she knew, even if she wanted to fight it or deny it. And as it seemed, Olivia knew that answer, too. “No.” Chloe answered truthfully, letting her eyes drop to her lap in embarrassment. “There’s no conclusive cause of death, no witnesses, no family to question, no evidence. There’s just nothing to go on.”

“Good. Close it, then.” The Lieutenant ordered, taking a new case file by her side and handing it to Chloe. “I’ve got a new case for you.”

Chloe nodded and took the file, checking her next case. She got up and headed for the exit, already thinking about the possible crime scene, when she heard the Lieutenant calling behind her.

“I’d hurry up, if I were you. Everyone’s going to want this one.”


	3. The Devil

The traffic at Sunset Avenue wasn’t as terrible as it used to be at the early hours of the evening and Lucifer let the Corvette engine rev to life as he sped through the lanes, willing the wind blowing on his hair to calm his thoughts. It resembled flying so much that driving really fast always left him with a bitter taste at the end.

He’d been restless for the entire week since he’d left that bar, since he’d let her walk away. Lucifer couldn’t for the life of him understand why he felt what he did, what was so different about _her_ that had kept him up at night.

He wanted to know why his grace lighted up when she was around, why his heart sped up without a reason, why it was so, so pleasant to be in her company. Lucifer needed to know why his powers had reached out to her, and flared up in fireworks when hers reached back.

He shook his head, slowing down the car as he approached Lux’s block. It was weird how his power had responded to her presence. Mostly because the Detective didn’t seem to be aware of it at all. The power emanating from her was so subtle he’d had trouble pinpointing where it was coming from, until he’d approached her.

Lucifer pulled the Corvette in the driveway next to his club and parked the car. He could muse about her later, right now he had a club full of humans ready to indulge in their deepest desires, just waiting for him to tempt it out of them.

When Lucifer stepped inside the club, he felt his balance shifting back into place for the first time that day. One of his bartenders handed him a glass of scotch and he took the opportunity to just lean on the balcony in the middle of the stairs and admire this little paradise of freedom he’d created for himself.

The atmosphere there was everything he needed. People crowding all the expense of the room, the sound of music at just the right volume, his piano shining in the middle, just waiting for him, the lights blinking in the ceiling with a dimmer glow, just like his stars glowed in the night sky. It was perfect.

He saw Maze tending the bar and walked to her, flirting with the patrons on his way there. She’d begun her banter even before he was completely in earshot and Lucifer sighed, tired of listening to her complaining about them not returning to Hell anytime soon.

“I’m retired, Maze. I have nothing but time.” Lucifer interjected, grabbing the whiskey bottle and seeing himself to another glass. He was eagerly watching the liquid fill his glass when it started pouring slower than naturally possible, and he just couldn’t believe his luck. When he’d said he had time, he hadn’t meant that as an invitation to the most annoying angel in Heaven to drop by for a visit.

“I think you have a visitor…” Maze said with a bored expression, pointing at his brother with her glass.

He stared at her for a second in bafflement, as if he hadn’t noticed that. Lucifer grabbed his glass and turned around, immediately spotting his angelic brother standing out between the crowds of party-goers like a sore thumb.

“Amenadude! How’s it hanging, big guy?” Lucifer greeted his older brother, making sure to use the nickname he hated. He climbed into the closed booth and took a seat, giving his brother the most uncaring expression he could muster. “Didn’t you see the sign? ‘No Angels allowed’? Hmm, no?”

“Your return to the underworld has been requested.” Amenadiel announced for the umpteenth time, his voice void of all emotions as he worked to ignore him.

“Oh, okay, let me check my calendar.” Lucifer reached for the inside of his jacket and pretended to take something and look it through. He knew this was the best way to annoy his brother. After all, he’d had some practice in it. “Yep, here it is. The seventh of Never, through the fifteenth of Ain’t Gonna Happen? How does that work for you guys?”

“You are a mockery to _everything_ divine.” Amenadiel threw the statement at him, disgust filling his voice.

“Well, thank you!” Lucifer downed his drink and got up, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do.” He climbed the stairs to leave his club, to get as far away from the Angelic intervention as he could. It only took him a moment to realize that time was still frozen. He turned around and looked back at Amenadiel, ready to piss him off some more. “Consider the position officially opened. So you, my feathered friend, _can go to Hell_.”

Lucifer turned and walked away, and this time, the time went back to normal.

* * *

Lucifer had retreated to the busy quietness of LA’s streets a few minutes ago and was now busy watching his Pentecostal Coin spin above his palm. He was trapped inside his head, his mind being taken over by the exciting new things he had felt at the bar and the knowledge that he was still continuing to be a disappointment to his Father – not that he cared about that. Which he really didn’t, not at all.

He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed the black limo stopping in front of him. The back window rolled down, his friend appearing behind it. 

“Hey, you. Remember me?” Her voice took him out of his thoughts, grounding him back to reality. It put a smile to his face amidst all the mess that was his head. She was just the distraction he needed at the moment.

“Oh, you’re famous or something. Delilah, right?” Lucifer shot back, standing up straight from the wall and stepping closer to the car. It made the line at Lux’s entrance go crazy. His patrons got their phones were out, surrounding Delilah and him in a mist of flashes and screams and fans calling her name. “Can I have an autograph?”

She let out a huff, allowing the smile to grow on her face as well. “If I can have a drink.”

Just a few minutes later, Delilah and he were sitting at his private booth in the middle of the club, both away and at the center of all patrons’ eyes.

“Are you going to tell me why you came back?” Lucifer asked, looking Delilah right in the eye so she knew he was serious. It had been weeks since she’d last been there, and he didn’t know why. They still talked occasionally, but something had changed in her.

Lucifer felt like she was pulling away from him, rejecting him at long last.

“There’s something I really want to know.” She shared in a low voice, letting her eyes fall away from his for a second before bringing them back up again.

“What’s that?”

“Did I sell my soul to the Devil?” Delilah asked in a concerned tone, and Lucifer let out a small huff, hoping she would get the message she shouldn’t be worried about that.

“That would imply the Devil is actually interested in your soul.” Lucifer chose the lighthearted reply and sipped his whiskey as he waited for her to process the information, but it was clear she wasn’t reassured in the least. “Look, all I did was introduce you to a few key people who owed me favors, that’s all.”

“I mean, with all the good, came a hell lot of bad.”

“Oh, right. So the Devil made you do it, was it? The alcohol, the drugs. The topless selfies. The choices are on you, my dear.” He replied easily, knowing she wasn’t accusing him directly of anything. He watched her shift on her seat and hold her glass a bit tighter, and decided to follow an easier path of questions. It was the least he could do. “I mean, _Jimmy Barnes_? I can’t believe you almost married that sweaty little imp.”

“He produced my album! You introduced me to him!” Delilah defended herself, her tone indignant, and Lucifer felt the change in her mood almost like it was a physical thing. 

“I suggested you _work_ with him, not _sleep_ with him.” 

“I got confused.” Delilah averted her eyes in slight embarrassment, but there was a soft smile on her lips, so Lucifer wasn’t worried. It made him relax a bit more on his seat, stretch his arm over the back of it just that tiny bit more.

“Then you left him in the altar.” He pointed out in an amused tone, letting the scene play out again in his mind’s eye. He’d had to really hold his laughter that day, when she’d showed up to Lux still wearing her gown.

“Yeah, that was rude of me.”

“No, I actually quite enjoyed that bit.” Lucifer’s words got Delilah’s attention back at him and he shone her a mischievous smile. She shared the feeling for a minute, before her features began to change and she let her eyes drop to the floor once again.

“I hear he’s marrying a supermodel this weekend, and I’m jealous. Oh, God, I’m a mess.” She hid her eyes with her hand and threw her head back on the seat, unable to face the world as it was.

“God has nothing to do with your mess.” Lucifer corrected mostly out of habit, but also as an attempt to get a snort out of her. It bothered him to see such a bright soul looking so dim. He decided to switch tactics when she continued to hide from him. “You didn’t sell your soul, Delilah. But you do owe me a favor.”

The hand covering her eyes dropped slowly as she sat back up on the booth. “I’m… scared.” She shared, unsure, her eyes drifting from place to place on his face.

“You should be. Because what I’m about to ask you is gonna be quite difficult for you.” Lucifer fixed his gaze on her and stopped speaking for a second, letting the tension build in her. “_Pull yourself together_.”

Delilah blinked several times, making full use of the loud quietness of the club to work through his request.

“That’s it.” Lucifer said after a couple minutes, breaking her out of her mind. “That’s all I’m asking. Cause you’re wasting your talent, your life.” He let his eyes insist on hers until she looked at him and Lucifer shone her a small smile, before he pulled her closer and let Delilah take comfort in him.

“There’s something else.” She said after a few minutes before she cleared her throat, making no move to unwrap her arms from around his waist. “It’s my voice. It’s getting too powerful.” Delilah whispered, and Lucifer knew exactly what she meant.

He cupped her cheek with one of his hands, letting his fingers rest on her neck, just close enough to her vocal chords for him to feel the magic emanating from them. Lucifer pulled her closer and placed a kiss to her forehead, letting himself absorb all the extra magic out, relishing in the way it tickled his insides.

* * *

“I’m gonna do as you asked. I’m going to get it together. Promise, Lucifer.” Delilah broke the silence only the dark night could provide in a city such as LA. She hugged the arm he’d offered her closer, more as a way to find support than because of the cold.

Lucifer stopped and turned to her once they were hidden in the shadows of the alley by the side of Lux. “Look, it’s not about me. What happens now… it’s up to you.” He let his statement hang in the air, boring his eyes on hers to be sure she understood. 

She pulled him in for a hug, which he responded for a second before letting her go. They exchanged quick goodbyes and Lucifer returned to the entrance of his club to speak with the bouncer, letting Delilah mull over their conversation in silence as she waited for her driver who should be just around the corner.

He was just about to head inside when the most pained shriek he’d ever heard cut through the air, ringing deep inside his head. Lucifer was running to the alley not a second later, his vision blurry as his heart sped up.

_He was wrong_, he kept repeating to himself like a mantra. _That_ hadn’t happened. Delilah was okay.

This was just his catastrophic mind in the works.

But his Father wasn’t the merciful god people believed him to be, and in the end, he was wrong.

When Lucifer reached the entrance to the alley, his feet felt like they’d turned into lead, too heavy to move. His heart was about to burst out of his chest, but at the same time, it felt like it had stopped beating altogether. 

His protégé’s, his _friend’s_, body was splayed on the ground. Blood was oozing from several bullet holes on her stomach, and it pooled on the ground around her, too quickly for him to do anything about it.

“Delilah.” Her name fell from his lips in a pained whisper. No matter how he approached it, it was already too late. Too late for human medicine and too late for magic.

An inhuman growl escaped from Lucifer’s throat when he raised his eyes and found the killer still there and making his way to Delilah’s lifeless body. The idiot with the gun, instead of running, rose it and aimed straight at his chest, and Lucifer felt his anger burning harsher than Hellfire.

He wouldn’t be able to hold his glamour up for much longer.

“_You_.” It came out as a deep, animalistic growl, and it made the murderer hold he gun tighter as Lucifer stalked towards him in slow steps, his eyes burning bright red with the fires of Hell.

The gun aimed at his chest went off again and again and again, making holes in his Armani shirt, but failing to penetrate his skin. The murderer’s eyes grew wide as Lucifer continued on his way to his prey, and he began stepping back as quickly as he could, desperate to escape the suffocating pressure of the Devil’s anger. 

For a moment, the killer actually thought he’d manage to escape, but he tripped and fell to the floor on his back. He started crawling backwards as Lucifer approached, but the wall behind him had him cornered. 

Lucifer liked it when they tried to run, when they thought they could escape. It made the torture so much better. 

Lucifer kept his eyes trained on the killer as he took the last couple steps that brought them face to face, his eyes burning as hot as they ever had. There was a deep sense of loss inside him, a void eating him alive that made him want to scream in despair, but this was more urgent. His _anger_ was more urgent. His friend, _killed on a dirty alley_, was more urgent. 

“_What did you do_?” Lucifer spoke with controlled anger, making him appear more threatening than before. He grabbed the killer by the collar of his shirt and lifted him from the ground. “_Answer me_!” He yelled this time, making the red of his eyes burn brighter for a second. 

“I’m sorry.” The killer stumbled on his words, trying to avoid the Devil’s eyes. 

“_Sorry_?” Lucifer let the anger bubble inside him for a second longer before he tried to take reign over it. Right at that moment, he needed answers. “_Why_ did you end her life?” 

“Why else!” The killer yelled, trying in vain to escape Lucifer’s hold. He could see the murderer getting restless, out of breath from his choking hold. “Money!” 

“_Money_.” Lucifer spat the word, like it was poison in his mouth. “In times like these I wish I was still in Hell. All the torture I’d have reserved jut for you. I guess I’ll just have to bring Hell to you, then.” Lucifer let his glamour drop, unable to hold up it for longer. 

The murderer was restless on his grip, trying everything he could to get away from the Devil. “We’re going to have so much fun.” Lucifer threw he killer back on the ground, and his screams were all that could be heard from the alley for minutes, reverberating on the walls and burning the anger that was trying to eat Lucifer alive. 

“_Please! Please, I just pulled the trigger_!” 

Lucifer left him broken on the floor when he was done and moved back to Delilah’s side. He reached for her throat for a second time that night, and siphoned every shred of magic that had remained in her vocal chords. A siren’s power was too dangerous to be left unchecked between humans. 

He looked at her for one last time, trying to erase this image of her from his mind, focusing on keeping only the memories of their chats and their duets, but his photographic memory would never let him forget. Lucifer reached for her lids and closed her eyes, all the while trying to imagine what a world without her would look like. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Setting Delilah up to her death hurt me so much T_T   
If you were a bit lost with the Siren part: Sirens are distant relatives to mermaids, and they can allure people with their singing.
> 
> What did you think about the change in POV? it'll change between Lucifer and Chloe in following chapters, but never in between scenes. Lucifer's come easier to me :p
> 
> Thank you all for the kind words and the support <3 It's really appreciated.


	4. The Murder

Chloe parked her car just outside the yellow tape and rushed out of it. The street was already packed with officers and detectives walking about and processing evidence.

She was standing in the middle of Sunset Avenue in the middle of the night, and it was still. The skyscrapers were dark, the parties that filled this part of town were quiet. This stillness made it seem like the city might come crashing down on top of her at any moment to surround her in darkness, too. The hustle of party-goers that made the city vibrate with excitement and life was gone, and it all felt empty with its absence. The streets, the lights, they all seemed out be out of place.

She ducked under the yellow tape and entered the alley that was being lit by the blinding flashes of the forensics camera. The body attracted her eyes right away. She was lying down on the dirty ground, blood covering her expensive clothes and drying in a puddle around her. She was blonde, make up done to perfection, wearing fancy clothes for a night out.

Out to what she believed would be a fun night. And she was Delilah, the famous singer. Young and so talented.

And now she was dead, lying in her own blood, with bullet casings scattered around, and an empty gun with a silencer on the floor.

A pair of unis were guarding a man on the ground, shaking violently and muttering to himself, hands buried on his thin hair as much as the cuffs allowed. A golden watch aught in the poor lighting, and it attracted her eyes immediately.

There was a dark sense of justice drenching the air around the alley – like the man trembling on the ground had gotten what he deserved. But the most disturbing thing was Delilah’s lifeless body, laying broken on the ground. It reached into something inside her, making her insides vibrate in the most unpleasant way.

“Want to hear what I’ve got so far?” Dan blurted as he appeared behind her, and Chloe tried not to flinch in surprise. He waved his notepad in front of her face, cocky smile at full force.

“Lieutenant said this is my case.” Chloe stated, making sure to look him dead in the eye so he knew she meant it.

“Yeah, Chloe, it is your case. But try not to take too much time. It’s an easy one. That’s our bad guy, Eddie Deacon, low level drug dealer.” He pointed at the man babbling on the floor and Chloe had a bad time imagining him as the killer based on the state he was in now. 

“I found these on his pocket and this on Delilah’s purse.” Dan raised two sets of packages with pills inside, shoving them on her face. “Obviously drug related. She owed him a bunch of cash or something. She’s not exactly selling out stadiums these days” His eyes fell to the woman dead on the floor and he let out a mockery huff.

Chloe blinked a couple of times, just to make sure she’d really seen Dan mock the victim. She _could not_ believe him and his attitude these days. It was like he was personally trying to annoy her.

“How do you know he’s low level? Did you look at his watch? That thing ain’t cheap.” She refuted his theory just to contradict him. To remind him he didn’t have all the answers.

Dan fixed her with a ‘really?’ stare before deigning her with an answer. “It’s probably _fake_. Look, there’s going to be a lot of attention on this one, Chloe. I wouldn’t peak at it too hard.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, his features changing to what he thought was supportive, but was condescending in reality, and she just _knew_ the words that were about to drop out of his mouth. “Not after Palmetto Street. You saw what happened on your last case because of it.”

Chloe averted her eyes, wishing his words didn’t stung as much as they did. She knew he was only trying to prove himself as superior, but it just hit at that point of insecurities she had inside her that made her doubt all her actions, all her cases. “Just… Are there any witnesses?”

She tried to get her focus back on the case. She was a detective, and she owed it to her victim to solve the case and put the murderer behind bars. It was just so hard to do that when all the officers at the scene kept side eyeing her, doubting her right or even her capacity to be there.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this.” Dan’s mockery was directed at her this time, and he refused to answer her when she asked what he’d meant. 

He led her inside the club beside the alley, Lux. It was famous, always on the news, always filled with celebrities, and the best party in the city according to several gossip sites Chloe never bothered to check.

The music-filled atmosphere of Los Angeles was also missing inside. At nightclubs, people were able to hear the crowds inside, feel the life of the party, from the outside. It was what invited people in. But today, the music there was faint, not that it mattered to the regulars that were still filling the bar.

“You getting this case. This means you finally closed your last one?” Dan didn’t look at her as he asked, but he seemed genuinely interested this time, so she replied with an affirmative. “Good. I know you didn’t think it was suicide at first, but I’m glad you came around.”

“I closed it as inconclusive.” Chloe gritted out. Dan had the nerves of eyeing her like she was crazy, so she stepped ahead and down the stairs before he could try to judge her some more.

Her feet touched the first step and she was enthralled. Blinking lights filled the ceilings, glowing faintly like the stars in the sky. They complemented the environment quite nicely, with the wooden, grand stairs that led down to the main floor where curved booths were set, a grand piano shining at the main stage.

It was impressive, and Chloe guessed it would be even more impressive when it was packed with people, colorful lights filling the atmosphere. She could definitely see the appeal, what attracted all the people.

She finished her descent, stopping at the balcony between the stairs when she noticed who was sitting on the piano and halted on her steps. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Chloe muttered under her breath, but he raised his eyes anyway, as if he had felt her arrive.

“Detective!” her Stranger friend’s happy tone filled the air, drifting around the mostly empty club and attracting everyone’s eyes. The sight of him made something coil inside her, and not in an unpleasant way. It wasn’t like she was excited to meet him and his weirdness again, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t either.

Before Chloe noticed, the tingle was back, taking over her insides and spreading through her limbs. It spoke to something inside her, something foreign and untouched, dormant even. It made it want to be released, unrestrained. Which was weird all on its own.

“_That_ is your witness.” Dan supplied, finally catching up to her. She thanked him and proceeded to descend the stairs, but he caught her arm, making her stop. “Be careful with him, Chloe. I don’t trust him.” He confessed, fixing her _friend_ with a death stare.

Chloe turned around and climbed down the stairs, acknowledging his worry but deciding against it. On the two times she’d seen him before, he’d seemed completely harmless. Overly cheerful, maybe, a dork for sure, cute and he probably hated that. But dangerous? No, not to her. 

“Is it my birthday or am I just this lucky?” He flashed her a dashing smile as she approached, pain barely concealed in his gaze.

Her Stranger was wearing a vest this time, dark with purple linings, his jacket thrown over the piano. It fit his look in a way the jacket couldn’t, showing off his slim waist and screaming of refined style. It fitted perfectly with the open top buttons of his white shirt, and the tousled hair that was beginning to curl, giving him that messy look she found hard to resist. 

He was nursing a glass of scotch, his other hand resting above the ivory keys of his piano, and Chloe had never been a fan of excessive drinking or cigarettes, but the one burning on the ashtray fitted his image pretty well. It made him look just... _delicious_.

And just like that, her rule of no musing over strangers was gone. 

He wasn’t exactly a stranger, she reminded herself, but it should still apply.

Chloe blinked a couple times to escape her drifting thoughts, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat taking hold of her cheeks. He had a way of always catching her when her thoughts were drifting to inappropriate territory. 

“So we meet again. Are you sure you’re not following me?” He teased her, placing his glass atop the piano and shifting on the bench to face her more fully.

“Why would I be following you?” Chloe asked back, playing along for a second. The death of his friend could wait a little more. Especially now that he seemed motivated enough to cooperate. “This is literally my job.”

“Maybe because you like me.” Chloe could hear the smile on his voice, but the dark still lurked inside his eyes. This was probably his way of coping with what happened: make people think he was okay, disguise it with humor and forget it ever happened. She was familiar with that mechanism, and so she knew it never worked. It would only make the misery worst when he was finally forced to deal with it. “Maybe it’s because you decided to take up on my offer.”

“What offer?” Chloe asked, humoring him but still amused with his line of questions. She could practically see the relief in him when she didn’t turn him down at first chance, but at the pit of her stomach, she could almost feel his fake joy weighting him down.

She wasn’t sure if this was helping or hurting him more.

“Of sex, of course.” He clarified like it was the most common thing for him to say, which, considering his appearance and his club, it probably was. Chloe had never been so glad that Dan was nowhere in sight.

Her Stranger took a sip from his glass and placed it back on top of the piano. She leaned on the lid, and it made him relax just that tiny bit more. Chloe convinced herself she was doing this to loosen him up, get him comfortable enough to talk about a tragedy, and not because she was flirting back.

That would be completely inappropriate. 

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. I certainly have.” He said, raising his eyebrows suggestively as he let his eyes trail down her body.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Lucifer. Morningstar.” He shared with such a straight face, Chloe couldn’t figure if he was joking or not. “So, you’re considering it now that you do?”

“_Lucifer Morningstar_? Is that a stage name or something?” She asked as she opened her notepad and started taking notes.

“God-given I’m afraid.” He confirmed, his expression going somber for a minute. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m the one doing the questioning here.” She pressed, full on detective mode for the moment. The flirting had been fun, and it had taken his mind out from the murder for a minute, but it was time to get back to work. And if it meant she’d stop embarrassing herself in front of him, it was just a bonus. “Talk to me about your relationship with the victim.”

“She worked here a few years back. I would occasionally accompany her while she sang,” he shared, gesturing to the piano, before his eyes took on a dark edge. “Then she became a big star and someone decided to end her life.” He shone her a void smile, and she could see the pain eating him inside.

“Did you know the killer?” Chloe asked, just to confirm her suspicions.

“No. But we did have an interesting chat just before he went monkey bottoms.” _Lucifer_ – and she couldn’t believe that was his real name – reached for his glass and took a large gulp, keeping it on his hands this time. He turned away from her for a second, before he decided to share whatever it was he knew. “I asked him why he did it.”

Chloe let out a hum, scribbling every piece of information she was getting. “Like to play cop, yeah?”

A snort left his lips before she noticed he had put his walls back up, ready to hide behind a dick-ish façade. “No. I just like to play in general, Detective. How about you?”

“So you had a conversation with the killer.” Chloe stated, trying to get him back on track. Something told her him drifting out of subject would be a common thing. “Did he tell you why he did it?”

“Well, for money, of course.” His eyes trailed away, and Chloe could see him getting lost inside his thoughts again. It was hurting her to see him in pain and trying to mask it and she didn’t know why. She’d just met him last week. But the more he allowed his thoughts to take control over him, the duller the atmosphere around her seemed, like the lights themselves lessened their shining. “You humans love your money, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, we do.” Chloe rushed out an answer, playing along with his crazy. “And what planet are you from? London?”

He let out a huff, downing his whiskey with a grimace and placing the glass back atop the piano. “He also said ‘I just pulled the trigger.’. Now, don’t you think that’s interesting?”

“Delilah was shot to death by a drug dealer, and it looks like Delilah herself kept the guy pretty busy. You know, it’s sad, it’s ugly, but it’s not rocket science. Something probably went south with them, she gets riddled with bullets and he goes crazy.” Chloe proposed Dan’s theory, wanting to see how he’d react to that. 

Lucifer lowered his head and let the frustration and the anger reign over him for a split second, before he forced himself to calm down. She’d wanted to prepare him in case the investigation turned out to be just that, that she was wrong about it being a premeditated murder instead of his friend causing her death by getting involved with drug dealers. Chloe regretted it as soon as it left her mouth, the air changing along with his mood.

Lucifer let out a humorless huff, letting her in to just all the pain he had inside himself. “It’s a quite neatly wrapped present for the LAPD, don’t you think? What will your corrupt little organization do about this?”

“Excuse me?”

“Will you find the person responsible? Will they be punished? Will this be a priority for you? Because it is for me.” Lucifer numbered his questions and Chloe could see he was using his pent up anger at the LAPD to hide his true feelings. This man really was a pit of unhealthy coping mechanisms all thrown together.

“Trust me, this is my number one priority at the moment.” Her voice was soft as she addressed his concerns. Chloe moved closer to him, softly placing a hand on his wrist, fearing he’d angrily punch the piano keys if left unchecked. “You may not trust the LAPD, but trust that I’ll do my job.” She retreated her hand and his arm moved up, almost as if he was chasing her touch. 

When Lucifer realized what he’d done, he pulled his hands back to his lap and lowered his head to hide his features. “I apologize.”

“Sorry, what?” Chloe teased him, trying to get at least the barest hint of a smile back to his features. She’d take the overly cheerful Lucifer she’d met at the bar or even the bashfully flirty one from the library at any given moment, anything to stop this pain that was eating him alive.

“I apologize.” She got a quick half-smile, but it was gone as soon as it came. “I didn’t mean you couldn’t do your job properly. I’m positive you’re the best on the department. The LAPD just has a habit of looking for the easy way out instead of properly handling the cases.”

“I know.” Chloe agreed with him in a regretful tone. Lucifer’s eyes were on hers in a split second, surprise evident on them. “I have colleagues who do that. But I’m not one of them.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and the tension in it lessened at the same second. 

It felt wrong to her, how he seemed so estranged to platonic touching. For someone who looked like him, sounded like him, owned a nightclub and talked so freely about sex as he did... it _felt wrong_ how touch starved he seemed to be.

“I believe in justice, and I won’t stop until I find who murdered your friend. Don’t worry about that.”

Lucifer got up in a split second, ruining the moment of understanding they were sharing. Maybe that was his goal after all. “Well, then. Where do we start?” He brushed his waistcoat and started walking out, making her hurry to catch up to him.

“_We_? We are doing nothing.” Chloe rushed after him, stepping in front of him to stop him from leaving. “_You_ are going to sit here at your piano and look pretty, and let _me_ do my job. I’ll call you once the case is closed.”

“What? No! I’m going with you.” Lucifer protested, trying to sidestep her, but Chloe blocked his way despite being half a foot shorter than him.

“You’re a civilian. I can’t take you on an investigation with me.”

He seemed ready to protest that, but Chloe’s phone rang and she reached for it, giving a pause to their argument. The call was coming from the precinct and she had to answer, so she just raised a finger for him to keep quiet.

“Decker.” Chloe answered, holding her phone between her shoulder and her cheek as she tried to wrangle the notepad and pen back to her jacket’s pocket.

“Chloe, you have to come back to the precinct tight now. It’s about your new case.” Dan said slowly, his voice static as it flowed through her phone’s speaker. “Deacon died in police custody. Paramedics think it was a heart attack, probably because of drugs.”

“_What?!_” The word burst out of her as a thousand different thoughts fought for dominance in her mind. She _could not_ afford to screw up again. She owed to Delilah to find her killer, she owed it to Lucifer, her reluctant friend who trusted her despite the department having failed him in the past.

She said a quick goodbye to Lucifer and not giving him time to protest as she rushed out, hating this case for not being as easy as Dan had said it was.


	5. The Investigation

“Perhaps now you’ll listen to me, although I’m not quite sure I know why I’m being arrested.” Lucifer protested as the Detective dragged him out of 2Vile’s house. 

It had been quite the interesting encounter. The guns, the broken glass, the threats, being arrested. _The Detective_. Lucifer was excited about this case, and not to just punish who decided to end Delilah’s life, though that was the main reason he was still so invested in it.

“Because you’re interfering with police investigation. You’ve broken, I can’t even count how many laws, and you pissed me off.” The Detective listed all of his offences, which weren’t all that dire in his opinion, at least not as she made it sound like. She stopped dragging him by the backseat of her car, where the handcuffed ones were transported, and he was horrified that she thought he’d actually ride back there.

“Right. I can get out of these, you know.” Lucifer told her, referring to the cuffs binding his wrists together at his back, hoping it would be enough to get this nonsense over.

“Funny.” She stared at him in incredulity. Lucifer wanted to roll his eyes at her disbelief in him, but chose to prove her wrong, instead. 

He focused on the metal binding his wrists, acknowledging it was there, and, a second later, it wasn’t. Lucifer grabbed the cuffs before they could fall to the ground and showed it to her, thoroughly enjoying the surprising amazement that took over her features in a split second.

“How’d you do that?” She asked, taking the cuffs from him to inspect it.

“_Come on_, we’re wasting time. We should be out there solving a homicide and punishing the ones responsible.” Lucifer said, getting his excitement back. It had honestly been too long since he’d been thrilled by the humans and their mundane affairs.

“_We_? You’re insane. I’m taking you in. Get in the car.” She reached for his arm and the car door handle, but Lucifer took a step away from her, getting out of her reach.

“No, that’s _boring_. Not to mention pointless.” He argued again, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Lucifer could see the annoyance growing in the Detective’s eyes, and it was probably not contributing with his request to help on the case, but this was far too important for him to just leave things by chance. And if the Detective made for good company, who has he to complain? Especially when he could keep flirting with her all day. “Come on, I’ll help you. It’ll be fun.”

“How could you possibly help me?” She asked, her arms stubbornly crossed. She looked every bit as ready to deny his offer no matter what.

“I have a certain skill set. I can be very persuasive with people and tend to see what others cannot.” He stated with a proud smile, which began fading little by little when she didn’t seem impressed, not even a tiny bit.

“So, you’re a psychic or something?”

“No, I can’t read people’s minds. I’m not a Jedi.” Lucifer rolled his eyes at her idea, letting an indignant huff out. “People just like to tell me things.”

“Just, just tell you things. Plain and simple, just like that.” The Detective stared at him like he’d grown a second head. But he could see it in her, a want to believe in him that she didn’t know where it was coming from. 

He let his power expand then, reaching out to hers to see if he could finally get her to respond to him like that. The Detective shifted uncomfortably for a second, a frown crossing her brows, but she didn’t reach back to him or even attacked him. It was making him confused.

Lucifer was certain she had some power – the extraordinary kind, since his angelic powers didn’t respond to just any power the way it had reacted to hers. It was possible that she didn’t know about it, or that she couldn’t control it so she’d locked it away. Maybe she’d decided to rid herself of her powers and mingle with the humans.

There was no way to know without directly asking, and he wouldn’t be doing that, so maybe a more direct approach with his own powers would do the trick.

“Okay, look. Tell me, Detective.” Lucifer brought his face closer to hers, letting his eyes bore deeply on her ocean blue ones. He let his power overflow him, reaching out to her, surrounding her, and setting its influence over her soul. He’d had a gut feeling that she would be one of the complicated ones, but he hadn’t imagined it would be so difficult to get his power to stick to her. “What do you desire more than anything else on this life?”

For a few excruciating seconds, the Detective simply stared at him, her eyes scanning his every reaction. 

“This is it? This is your big trick?” She deadpanned, and Lucifer blinked, several times, momentarily losing control over her. 

He’d never encountered anyone who could resist him like that ever before in his life. It was disturbing to say the least, but maybe he’d simply underestimated her mind. Yes, that was probably it. So he increased his power, and for a second it had seemed like it was enough.

“Well, I guess I just wanted to help people like my dad and… be taken seriously… when I say to shut up and get in the damn car.”

Lucifer was wide eyed and terrified by then. He leaned away from her, his mind racing with thoughts, looking for any reason why she might be able to resist him like she had. He hadn’t done anything to interfere with his powers, not that he knew of. “You’re not a Jedi or something, are you?” He asked when he’d ran out of ideas, just to be on the safe side.

“_Get in the car_.”

“No, no, no.” He denied her, sidestepping her hold another time. At this point, Lucifer was sure he looked like a petulant child, but he couldn’t avoid it. He couldn’t afford to be left behind this time. “Look, I know something you don’t know.” He baited her, resorting to giving up his gold if it would secure him a place in her investigation. He could probably find the mastermind behind the murderer on his own, but with her company it would be so much more fun.

“Really, what’s that?” She asked, not buying his crap at all. 

Except it wasn’t crap and he wasn’t just pulling random things out of his mind to stall her. Lucifer knew just the person Delilah would have confided in, especially on these last few months that she had taken to avoid LUX and, him at a certain degree.

There was only one person she’d trusted enough in LA beside him to speak her mind freely to, without the fear of repercussion or judgement. Lucifer had been tempted to engage on that as well, and he’d gotten to know, personally so, Delilah’s confidant, but in the end he’d decided no one could actually handle the Devil.

“I won’t say unless you take me with you on this.” Lucifer bargained, noticing her patience wearing thin, but deals were where he shone, and he was sure he could convince her to take him along, if only because she’d been humoring him for all this time. 

The Detective could definitely have manhandled him into that backseat – not that he’d mind if she decided to join him in there – but she was still there, letting him talk her ear off, and about something she didn’t believe in. 

“_Please_.” He asked nicely this time, and that seemed to do, at least half of, the trick. “Come on, I got to 2Vile, didn’t I?”

“Why do you care about this so much? About Delilah?”

“Look, I just... I just do.” He tried to speak, but the words got stuck on his throat. Lucifer didn’t know how to answer that question, maybe because he didn’t know the answer himself, or he just didn’t want to say it out loud.

The openness of her eyes won out in the end, and he forced the words out of his soul.

“If I hadn’t meddled with her career, maybe she wouldn’t have died.” He admitted, averting his eyes to the ground and finally acknowledging out loud what he’d been battling against since that night. And what a detective she was, if she’d picked up on that this easy. 

The Detective analyzed him for a couple seconds, pondering if she should trust him. Her eyes scanned his every action and reaction, and it made his heartbeats speed up. Lucifer hadn’t meant for his powers to also respond to her scrutiny, which only worsened the perfect storm his anxiety was forming inside him.

“Okay, okay. Fine.” The Detective relented, and it was as if fireworks had gone off inside him. She shook her head, probably already regretting her decision. “But if this little clue of yours doesn’t pan out, these are going back on, and they’re gonna stay on.” She promised him, showing him the cuffs before storing them.

“Is that a promise?”

* * *

Dra. Linda’s office was thankfully empty when Lucifer and the Detective arrived. The session light was also out, so Lucifer walked straight to the door and grabbed the handle to waltz in.

A spark went through him when the Detective placed her hand above his to stop him from barging in. She eyed him disapprovingly and knocked. Lucifer rolled his eyes at her antics.

The door opened up a few seconds later, the Doctor standing behind it. She looked every bit as professional as she always did, with those proper dresses of her that always stroke him as too clinical. But her control slipped up for a moment when she set her eyes on him, a blush beginning to take over her cheeks.

“Lucifer! What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice a pitch higher than it usually was. 

His reply was a simple smile, before he turned to eye the Detective, letting her dictate the interview as per her request.

“Dra. Martin, I’m Detective Chloe Decker. I’m here to talk about Delilah. I understand she was your patient.” The Detective introduced herself, extending her hand for the Doctor to shake.

“Oh, yes, of course. Come on in.” Dr. Linda opened the door for them to get inside and gestured to the couch before she took her place at the chair opposite it. “I’m not sure how much help I can give you. Patient confidentiality still applies.”

Lucifer watched the Detective reach inside her jacket pocket for her notepad and pen with fascination. It always escaped him how humans had trouble remembering things. He was content to just simply witness the Detective’s humanly ordinary acts and learn her boring police procedure, but the Doctor’s gaze fixed on him was getting him distracted.

She had that look in her eyes that he knew so well. The want for him stronger than she could control, no matter how hard she tried to.

Lucifer smirked as he decided to use that as an example for the Detective, so she could witness his skills in action even if they didn’t work on her. And it would also make it more alluring for the Doctor to cooperate. He knew how serious she was with her patients.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Lucifer teased her, leaning forward and willing his charms to influence her. He could see she was trying to ignore him, keep her focus solely on the Detective, but her eyes kept going back to him no matter how hard the Doctor tried to avoid it.

“What’s going on here?” The Detective asked him, noticing the Doctor’s fleeting eyes.

“She’s got the look.” He explained, willing a bit more of his charms to work on the other woman, making her squirm on her seat.

“What look?” The Detective asked at the same time as the Doctor said “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Detective’s question made his charms lessen in strength on the Doctor as Lucifer turned his full attention to her. He already had the answer at the tip of his tongue, but as his eyes fell on her, he was stricken. His powers were clearly working on the Doctor, but on the Detective… The problem of his powers not working wasn’t on him. “Which is interesting because you don’t look at me that way.”

“What way?”

“With carnal fascination.” He clarified, working extra with his charms to see if he could get a reaction out of her. He could feel her power tickling along the lines of his, making him feel as if fireworks were bursting on his insides, but other than that, she didn’t even blink.

“That’s because it doesn’t exist.” The Detective was quick to deny, which made Lucifer’s instincts flare up on high alert. He’d never known someone who could resist him and it was unsettling, deeply so.

“No, that’s just it. With most women it does. I tend to appeal to the dark, mischievous heart within all of you. But, you, Detective, you seem oddly immune to my charms.”

“Referring to them as charms, I think, is a bit of a stretch. Truth be told, I find you repulsive. Like on a chemical level.”

“Fascinating.” Lucifer exclaimed, hoping it was just that. But deep down he knew he felt troubled, unbalanced. It made him want to leave her behind and never see her again, and yet never leave her side, at the same time.

“You say it’s fascinating, yet I can see it disturbs you, doesn’t it? Deeply.” The Doctor addressed him, his influence on her having run completely thin since he couldn’t get his eyes away from the Detective. Dr. Linda’s keen observation had his insides rolling unpleasantly. It took him by surprise, worsening this unsettling feeling he had inside himself, fueling this desperation he felt to regain control of the room again.

Lucifer didn’t bother answering her, too busy inside his mind to make his mouth work properly. He could feel the Detective’s insistent gaze burning a hole through his being with the force of her stare, but he ignored them, not trusting himself at that moment to say anything to her. The longer her eyes stayed on him, the more her frown grew, until eventually she set them back at the Doctor, detective mode fully back on.

“Doctor Martin, we know that Delilah was having a clandestine affair with a wealthy married man. So, if you just tell us his name, we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.” The Doctor replied.

“Linda, darling. Why don’t you tell me?” Lucifer asked her, snapping back to the moment. He set his eyes on hers and worked just that extra bit to make sure she couldn’t resist him this time. She was one of the difficult ones, he knew that already, but eventually she would give in. It was inevitable. “You can tell me. I know you want to.”

“_No_, I can’t. _I want to_, but I can’t. No.” Dr. Linda tried to fight back, but in the end, she gave in. At least she’d lasted longer than Lucifer thought she could’ve. “_Fine_, fine! I’ll tell you.” She relented while looking equal parts guilty and excited. “It’s Grey Cooper.”

A silent beat went by where all that could be heard was the sound of their breathing, the Detective and Lucifer’s minds too busy processing the information.

“Grey Cooper, the actor? Who’s married to Amanda something?” He asked slowly, reluctantly, but in desperate need of confirmation. It couldn’t be the dweeb he was thinking about. But then the Detective absentmindedly nodded, looking just as baffled as he was with that. “Oh, no. _He’s horrible_. So square jawed, so vanilla! I’m really quite disappointed in Delilah. That’s a truly terrible taste in the opposite sex.”

“Thank you very much, Dra. Martin. We’ll be in touch.” The Detective thanked the Doctor, dismissing his comment entirely. She got up and grabbed him by the sleeve, pulling him out of the office with her.

Their homicide had just gotten a new suspect.

* * *

“Don’t look so smug. Nothing’s panned out, yet.” The Detective said, sparing him a brief look as she sped through the streets of Hollywood with her police cruise.

Well, ‘sped’ was a bit of an overstatement if Lucifer was being honest. She was driving at just the speed limit, and not even a mile – or ten – above it.

As much as he appreciated her company, he couldn’t wait to get out of that car.

Lucifer felt confined inside that metal box with wheels, the Detective making him nervous. Her power, despite being carefully hidden from the prying world, had grown stronger somehow, and it was surrounding him, mingling with his and closing in on him. He’d been trying to reach out to her again, but every time he got nothing back, just that overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by her. It was fireworks on his soul and panic on his mind at the same time.

Lucifer had been trying to focus on the outside, instead. On the heavy traffic from downtown thinning out as they slowly left the heart of LA, headed to a place without high towers or heavy concrete, suffocating and giving life to the city at the same time.

Where they were headed, celebrity mansions took over the landscapes, all so white and terribly dull. And Lucifer had tried to focus on that, but somehow his eyes always ended up going back to her. It was making the hairs on his nape stand on end and his insides chill out with an underlying adrenaline.

It was building a restless energy that he just couldn’t get rid of. It was making his mind painfully aware of her presence, her proximity, to the point he felt constrained by the tight buttons of his shirt, the stilled air inside the vehicle.

“Is the movie why you got such a chip on your shoulder?” Lucifer asked to break the silence, trying to lessen the electricity filling the air when he was in her presence. He would take anything to distract his wondering mind.

“It’s low on the list of things I have to live down, I guess.” She replied, letting out an unamused laugh.

“Right. Attractive female cop struggling to be taken seriously in a men’s world, is that it?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Well, they’re threatened. You’re clearly smart and have notable instincts. Ignore them. Trust yourself.” The words spilled out from his lips before he could think better of them, but at this point, it would be hard for him not to back her up. Lucifer had taken a liking to her that he just couldn’t explain. There was just something about her that attracted him to her like a magnet.

The small smile she was trying to hide was all the confirmation he needed that it had been just the right thing to say. He was rather proud at himself for getting one of those out of her if he was being totally honest. All this uptightness and unwavering professionalism, it was nice to see her let loose for a second.

Lucifer was just about to ask her more about her work when her phone rang, disturbing their newfound comfortable silence. She quickly accepted the call and put it on speaker, placing her phone on the console. Ever the responsible one, he thought.

“Decker.”

“Hey, it’s me, Chlo’.” A man’s voice flowed out of the Detective’s phone, brittle and filled with static, but one he recognized belonging to one of the police members who had worked at the crime scene outside his club. He just couldn’t pinpoint which one yet.

“Where the hell were you?” The Detective’s tone raised pinch, just the tiny bit amount of anger perceptible beneath it. “You were supposed to-”

“Give me a break. I was putting a case to bed.” The man interrupted her with a scoff that made Lucifer annoyed in response.

“Right. Like I’m not working on a case, too. Oh, yeah, the one you _tried to steal from me_.” The Detective replied in equal annoyance, making a turn tighter than was asked for, the sudden shift in gravity pushing Lucifer against his door.

“You mean the open and shut one. You did open and shut it, right?” The way he referred to his _friend’s_\- 

Lucifer stopped himself and swallowed, stopping his mind from going there. The way he was referring to the case was getting Lucifer angry enough. Had that douche been the one assigned to solve it, Delilah’s killer would never be found. 

That realization made Lucifer’s temper flare up, his Devil face itching just below his glamour. He forced himself to breathe and calm down. It would do no good for him to lose control and scare the Detective away forever, not when she was starting to get used to having him there, when they were getting along so well. And there was still the mystery of her powers for him to solve, the mystery that was _her_, and not just the magical side of her being.

“I’m being diligent, Dan. It’s a high profile case.” The Detective tried to justify herself, but Lucifer could see it was as much for her as it was for Dan.

The name sparked a flash of memory in his mind. An average detective, dark hair, blue eyes, looked like a douche. He’d tried to question him first, but the way he spoke about his friend made him sick to his stomach. Lucifer had annoyed his brains out as a result, until he’d quit with his questioning. 

“Exactly. Which is why you have to be smart about it.” He continued, just showing himself to be more and more a douche.

The comment made Lucifer tick, even more so when the Detective used the brief stop in traffic to look away. “She _is_ smart. You’re the dimwit.” He fired back, not able to stand his idiocy filling all the space the Detective’s confidence had occupied just seconds ago.

“Wait, is that… Chloe, _why_ is that clown with you?” Dan exclaimed, as if him yelling at her now would solve anything. 

“Because he actually gave me a solid lead, Dan.” The Detective spat back, reaching for the phone. “I have to go now. I’m driving.” She pressed the end button and threw the phone back at the console, maybe a bit harder than necessary.

“Solid lead, eh?” Lucifer teased her, wiggling his brows at her. The look she gave him steeled him back in place, his grin awkwardly falling from his lips.

“Oh, shut up.” The Detective had tried to keep a straight face, but Lucifer could see the small smile cracking at the corners of her mouth. It made him feel strangely proud.

He was bent on spending the remainder of the drive to Grey Cooper’s house in silence, enjoying the comfortableness it provided, how it began calming his erratic mind. Bent in giving her some time to center herself again. But with time, even though the car was moving, the _stillness_ of it began making him restless again, mad to just _do_ something.

Lucifer had always been a creature of action. He just couldn’t stay still. It would drive him mad.

His fingers began drumming on his thigh and then at the armrest on the door. At one point, they’d reached to the button to keep opening and closing his window, but he stopped himself just short of it. The Detective would definitely throw him out of the moving car if he began annoying her.

In the end, Lucifer reached for the radio. Good half ground, he thought. Except all radio stations were either playing country music – which wasn’t his particular favorite genre – or talking about Delilah’s death in a careless way only celebrity gossipers could.

Lucifer was browsing through the stations, already impatient by then, when the Detective shot him a glance, and he just dropped his hand from the radio. He gave up on searching and leaned back at his seat, hoping the news would be kind to his friend.

_ “…when rising star, Delilah, was murdered, not twenty-four hours ago. Her last album’s sales exploded since then, reaching a fantastic number one on the charts.” _

“Too bad she’s not here to see it.” Lucifer breathed out bitterly. Delilah had told him one night that this was her big dream, her hidden desire. And some _human scum_ had deprived her from it.

Lucifer felt his temper rising, this _need_ for justice, for _punishment_, clouding his eyes to the point where all he could see was red.

“That’s it.” The Detective said so low that Lucifer barely heard it. She turned to him, wide eyed, a gleam shining on her ocean blue eyes. Her hand reached out to touch his arm, and Lucifer could feel his anger being drained away. “Lucifer, that’s it! You’re a genius!”

“Of course I am.” He scoffed, proud at himself and glad that she’d caught up to it, but in that particular moment, it seemed their roles were reversed. “But I’d say the genius here is you, Detective. What did you figure out?”

“Her album sales. Now that she’s gone, they’re skyrocketing.” She began explaining to him. On the occasions she’d turn to meet his eyes when the traffic allowed, he could see this glow in her gaze that had him struck. “Who would benefit the most from all this sudden attention her album is getting?”

The clogs that were turning inside his mind finally clicked into place, and the world seemed to make sense again. A devilish grin began pulling at his lips, and Lucifer could feel the hellfire burning stronger inside him. Soon enough, Hell will have claimed another soul.

* * *

“Hello, Jimmy!” Lucifer called for the human failure that called himself a producer as he barged into the recording room of the studio, the Detective close behind in his heels. 

Jimmy was startled by their sudden arrival and turned to face them, his eyes wide when he noticed the golden shield on the Detective’s hip.

“How’s that album’s sales doing?” Lucifer couldn’t help but press on. He’d always enjoyed to see his prey squirm, but the look of surprise that _stain_ had managed to pull made him lose his patience for a second.

Lucifer began feeling the change in the air as he forced himself to calm down. It was subtle at first, but as he concentrated, he began feeling the atmosphere heavier than he remembered it being next to the human scumbag, and his nerves were sent into overdrive.

There was more to him than Jimmy Barnes let on, something supernaturally more.

“What album?” Jimmy asked, taking a half step back, trying to hide himself behind the drums.

“Sound track to ‘Time Will Tell’, which you produced.” The Detective supplied, taking a step in front of Lucifer. “Whitney Huston hit the top ten with her album after her death. Michael Jackson hit the stratosphere. Not sure you’ll reach such high ground with Delilah killed, but I’m sure there’s a butt load of royalty checks coming your way. Guess you really needed the cash, huh? Which is why you had to pay the shooter with your watch.”

Lucifer noticed the man’s face twitch at the mention of the watch, and he had to give it to the Detective. It had been a nice detail to add. 

“The watch Delilah gave you.” Lucifer pressed on, building even more on that front so Jimmy knew he and the Detective really had the proof it was him. It always made it better for Lucifer when the criminals knew they didn’t have a way to escape. “Now that’s just sick, and you are, so…”

They’d been doubtful about the watch in the car. When they were discussing the possibility of Jimmy being the responsible, one of the setbacks was how, since he had no connections to the shooter. The watch she’d mentioned seeing on the murderer made Lucifer remember Delilah trying to get him to help her buy one for her colleagues after her movie, but since he couldn’t see the watch at that moment, they had had to rely on descriptions, so they couldn’t be sure it was Jimmy’s.

But seeing the twitch on his face was confirmation enough that they’d been right.

“I _made_ her and she _ruined_ me. _Humiliated_ me. She _owes_ me!” Jimmy burst out, hand reaching to his back to withdraw a gun. In a split second, the Detective had hers in hand, also raised and pointing at their confessed culprit.

“You’re not God, Jimmy. You didn’t make her, but you did destroy her.” Lucifer tried to attract his attention away from the Detective, stepping forward and placing himself between them both. At least one of them was bulletproof. “So I’m going to punish you.”

His steps forward grew faster, a manic glee taking over his brown eyes. Lucifer let the bottled up anger rise, making his eyes change to red. He could almost feel the temperature in the room increasing to match up with his mood.

“Back off, you freak. I mean it.” Jimmy pointed the gun at him and started to step backwards, tripling over cables in his rush. “I’m not going to jail for that bitch, no chance.”

“_Lucifer_…” He heard the Detective call for him, but he was already too engrossed on this. His anger had already taken reign and he let that manic grin grow on his face. All the ways he could make this miserable excuse of a human suffer from hurting his friend…

Deep inside his own feelings, Lucifer didn’t notice the Detective take a step to the side and shoot Jimmy, sending him falling to the ground with a grunt of agony.

Lucifer couldn’t believe in what he was seeing. The wound on Jimmy’s shoulder was bleeding, and his features showed enough pain that he seemed to be rendered useless because of it. He turned back around to face the Detective, an incredulous look in his eyes and rightfully mad at her for putting him down too soon.

“_Why_?! Why did you do that?!” Lucifer yelled at her, his breathing hard, his eyes wide but back to brown, as he lost control of his temper for a second. “You let him off too easy!”

“I’m sure where he’s going he’s going to-” A shot rang in his ears, loud in the enclosed space, and it sent the Detective falling to the floor.

The loud bang was still ringing inside his skull, and the world lost its focus for a second or two. The smell of blood and gunpowder rose in the air, making Lucifer nauseous. He almost lost his balance for a second, seeing the Detective immobile on the ground, but the rasped sound of her trying to breathe shocked him back to reality.

“Chloe!” Lucifer called for her, kneeling down and covering her body with his, blocking Jimmy’s view of her as much as he could. He heard Jimmy trying to stand up behind him, which attracted the Detective’s attention.

When she finally opened her eyes, there was a vulnerability in their pale blue that made Lucifer want to hide. “I don’t want to die.” She pleaded, her voice growing weaker as she spoke, blood dyeing the corners of her mouth in red. 

A loud crash made him turn around. Jimmy was up, dropping every instrument on the way to the ground as he stumbled to the door, one hand raised, pointing the gun at Lucifer, the other trying to hold pressure on the wound to his shoulder.

Lucifer couldn’t do it both. He could get up and follow the scumbag, get revenge for his friend and make sure another sinner was damned to Hell – a choice he, the Lord of Hell, would never pass out on – but, if he decided for revenge, this human who’d trusted him – _him_ of all devils – without second guessing him or his identity, this beautiful human who didn’t seem to mind his weird quirks and was immune to his powers…

“I won’t let you.” Lucifer reassured her, hating to see the fear so obvious in such a strong human. He _wouldn’t_ let her die, he never lied. 

He could get his revenge later.

Lucifer gathered whatever trace of magic he still held, whatever little bit of it he could find, and focused it all to his palm. He placed his hand atop the wound, just above the Detective’s heart, and let the light shine through and heal.

When it didn’t start working right away, Lucifer worried the magic he’d siphoned from Delilah wouldn’t be enough. That, for the first time in millennia, he’d break a promise.

He could feel the light getting dimmer inside her as her soul left her body. The Detective was almost gone when the glow got just a tiny bit more golden and a healing peace took over them both.


	6. The Truth

Burning sage graced her senses even before Chloe managed opened her eyes. It made her feel calm, adding to the numbness she felt engulfing her limbs. When she finally opened her lids, she found Lucifer sitting on an armchair by her side, with a mortar and pestle in hand as he mixed some herbs.

“Look who’s back.” He greeted her in a low voice that still sounded too loud in her ears. 

Chloe gave him a tired smile and tried to sit up on the bed, but a blinding pain flared up on her left shoulder when she tried to pull herself up. She winced as the world spun around her, making her stomach protest. 

“Easy, Detective. Easy.” Lucifer got up from his armchair in a second to help her ease down to the bed. He placed his hands on her arms, and his alms left warm prints in her skin, so warm Chloe focused on them to stop the nausea trying to rise up her throat. 

She closed her eyes and allowed herself a minute to just lie down and will her shoulder to stop hurting. She let out a deep sigh, melting into the soft mattress beneath her. The pain in her shoulder had been more surprising than painful, which begged the question of why was it hurting in the first place.

But more importantly than that, she had no idea of where she was.

From the little she’d seen before the world had begun spinning around her, she was lying in a bedroom, with black silk sheets covering her and floor to ceiling windows instead of walls. The moon was shining on the outside, with little lights covering the ground, which gave her the impression she was high in the sky. An apartment, most likely.

But while the night was covering the city outside with its dark cloak, on the inside low amber lights filled the atmosphere, giving off a feeling of calmness.

When Chloe finally managed to get ahold of her spinning head and her sick stomach, she opened her eyes again and tilted her head to the side so she could be facing Lucifer.

He was still wearing the suit she remembered seeing him with, but his shirt was mostly untucked by then, his top buttons open and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his jacket forgotten somewhere else. He had a sweet look to his eyes and the beginnings of a smile on his lips, but the worry barely hidden in his face was the most striking feature in the low light.

Lucifer had taken his mortar with the goo of herbs back, but he wasn’t stirring or mixing them anymore. His fingers were intertwined around it, the little pot serving as a buffer for the anxiety he was trying to fight.

He tilted his head to the side like he always did when he was confused or enquiring something, in that way that made him look cute, boyish even, and that didn’t fit his playboy, uncaring persona at all.

“What’s all of this for?” Chloe asked as her eyes drifted to all the candles that were lit around the bedroom. It was hard to find a simple wax candle in between those, with colorful waxes and symbols carved into almost of them.

“To help you heal.” Lucifer clarified after clearing his throat and fixing his eyes back own to the herb mixture on his hands. He began stirring the gooey, green paste again, not sparing her a glance as she continued to look around.

“And the burning sage?” She asked, trying to get her brain back into some functioning degree again. Back into some logical thinking, because healing candles and burning spices were getting too mystical for Chloe’s tastes.

“I like the smell of it.” He slowly raised his eyes with a smile pulling at his lips. Chloe let out a huff of laughter and smelled it in one more time. It was nice, if you ignored the smoke. 

When her eyes went back to his, the easy going attitude was gone, a frown having completely taken over his face. Lucifer helped her raise to a sitting position and handed her the cup, all the while paying extra attention to her shoulder and anywhere that weren’t her eyes.

“What is it?” Chloe asked in a careful tone, stalling him with conversation as to avoid having to drink the _thing _he gave her.

“I thought it hadn’t been enough.” Lucifer shared in a low tone, leaning back in his armchair with a tired sigh. “That I hadn’t been enough.” His eyes fell to his palms before he began toying with his black ring, spinning it around a long finger.

Chloe recognized the feeling, the gloom that had been eating at his insides. Her mother had made her feel like she wasn’t enough on more times than she liked to admit. She knew how destructive the feeling could be.

She wanted to reach out to him, to place her hand on top of his or on his wrist, because, deep down, she knew that without him she wouldn’t be sitting on that bed, and her shoulder was enough of a reminder. But the chair Lucifer was sitting on was too far out of her reach.

And while she recognized and understood what he felt, Chloe didn’t know why he was feeling that. She didn’t understand how he couldn’t have been enough, what couldn’t have been enough.

“What are you talking about?” She asked in need of clarification, but also as a way to bring him out of his mind. It was strange how she could all but _feel_ the negativity surrounding him as if it were a physical thing she could touch.

“Do you understand what happened at the studio? _Really_ understand?” Lucifer asked as he shifted on his seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I- No.” There was a seriousness in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen in him too much, and it compelled her to answer truthfully, but not in the way he made people spill their guts to him. At least Chloe felt this was different. It was more _genuine_. Lucifer was more genuine, in his worry, in his apprehension, so she talked. “One minute we were standing there, talking, and then I was shot. And I remember thinking that that was it, the job had finally killed me, but then you were there, and I didn’t feel so cold anymore. What was that, the _light_?”

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably on his seat and brought his eyes back to his ring, as if she’d said what he feared. “It was magic.” His voice was deep as big, brown eyes settled on hers in a way that made her stomach churn. 

“Wait what?” Chloe snapped, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. He was insane.

_Magic? _

That was not how the world worked. There was no such thing. It was all just fairytales people told children and something people believed on so it would make their lives easier.

It wasn’t real.

But while her logical mind kept denying Lucifer’s words, something inside her was... _responding_ to him, reaching out to him. It was something that made her want to believe him, even if it sounded crazy, even if _he_ seemed insane.

Chloe didn’t think he would lie to her, not at this point, not about that, but she found herself asking him again, just to confirm she hadn’t heard things or misunderstood him.

“_Magic_.” She deadpanned, her voice maybe a little too hard, but Lucifer’s face continued as straight as it had been before.

This was no joke to him. 

“Yes, magic. Just like these candles here, and me, and... well…” Lucifer started looking around and pointing at candles in exasperation, but as his pointing went on, he finally ended up looking at her and sighed, unsure as if he should continue. He fixed his gaze on her, the warm brown of his eyes turning a faint golden in the amber light. “_You_.”

“What now?” Chloe did a double take. It was fine by her if he wanted to be shady about what happened at the studio or if he wanted to believe in some supernatural forces, but bringing her to the middle of that was too much.

That was where she drew the line. After all, she’d stopped believing in magic when she was seven, just like any other kid had.

“You’re a witch, Chloe.” Lucifer insisted with a straight face in a way that made Harry Potter flood her mind.

The seriousness in his face was the only thing that kept her from bursting out in laughter. And she could tell, the longer she spent in silence or outright dismissing his idea, it was a minute more Lucifer continued to freak out internally. He was probably regretting even saying a word to her by then.

“Prove it to me, then. Show me you’re not just some crazy random lunatic.” Chloe offered instead. Middle ground and all that stuff. If he really believed in it, he’d find a way to show her, and if he was playing with her, then she would know for sure right away.

“I can’t.” He replied reluctantly, shifting in his seat again.

“You can’t?” Chloe simply stared at him, not believing he’d had the nerve try something like this. The oddness from it all, plus the stress of being shot, made her lose her control and Chloe laughed. She didn’t miss the way Lucifer flinched at her reaction, his eyes fixed on his hands. “How do you expect me to believe you, then?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t-” Lucifer bored his eyes on hers and willed her to understand, but it just looked too farfetched to her. Not his feelings – she knew for sure those were real – but all the rest... Weird herbs and magical candles and _witches_? It was just too much, too soon. “Look, Detective, have you ever felt that an elevator door stays open for just a tiny bit longer, just enough for you to enter before it closes? Or a cup takes a little longer to fall just so you can catch it before it breaks? Or maybe even something inside you that tells you the way to go, or- or what lead to follow?”

“That’s just my gut.” Chloe defended while Lucifer rolled his eyes. Her gut wasn’t some sort of _magic_. It was just… what, exactly?

“That’s your magic manifesting without you knowing.” Lucifer pressed on. He scooted closer to her on his seat and raised his hands to reach out to her, but before he could touch her, he thought better of it and let them fall back on his thighs. “I can’t prove it to you right now because I used whatever little magic I had to heal you.”

His words made Chloe remember being shot, and the pain it caused her. Her hand shot up to the wound and she tilted her head down to better examine it. 

The wound wasn’t red or bloody as she expected it to be. It wasn’t even bothering her too much anymore. Chloe gently pressed her fingers to it, just above her heart. She remembered the amount of blood that came out of that hole in her chest. She wasn’t supposed to have survived it, much less without medical assistance, but she also remembered Lucifer, and a light that wouldn’t let her leave.

Chloe shook her head to send those memories away. Now was no time to daydream. She raised her eyes back to Lucifer’s to find a new glee in their golden brown. 

“But maybe you can do something.” Lucifer muttered and got up in a flash. In a second he was standing by her side, in the next, he was walking out of the room, disappearing through the door – or at least where the door would have been if there was one.

It was just a threshold made of stone that lead to a room following the same dark pattern of the bedroom. Chloe could see a well-stocked bar and the tip of a couch, an elevator and some bookcases standing at the far end.

“What do you mean? Lucifer?” Chloe called out to him, but there was no response. She tried to shift on the bed to see through the threshold, but her injured shoulder cried out in pain when she put too much pressure on it, so she had to stay put and wait for him to return.

She closed her eyes and strained to hear whatever sounds Lucifer was making. There were drawers being open and shut, objects being shuffled around, Lucifer’s yelp of victory and steps echoing through the floor back to the room.

“Here. Just- just take this.” Lucifer rushed back to her side and thrusted a candle to her hands before returning to his seat in the armchair.

“What is it?” Chloe asked, shifting the plain wax candle he’d handed her after placing her untouched cup of goo on the nightstand.

“A candle. I’m sure you’re familiar with those.” Lucifer answered her question with a hint of laughter to his tone and a smirk pulling at his lips. “I know you don’t believe me right now, but… Do you trust me?” He asked, boring his eyes in hers. His humor sobered up, and a serious tension replaced it.

“Strangely enough, I do.” Chloe answered truthfully and without hesitation, trying to ignore the tiny happy smile that was threatening to form on the corner of his lips.

Lucifer reached out and covered both her hands with his where they were holding the candle. His palms were hot on her skin, and they made her heart pick up its pace. “Close your eyes.” He told her lowly, eyes trained on the candle. She eyed him warily for a second, waiting for the catch. “I’m not going to do anything creepy, I promise.” He reassured her, raising his eyes to hers with a playful grin on his face.

Chloe rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She closed her eyes and breathed in, enjoying the hint on sage drifting in the air, even if the branch had already stopped burning by then.

“Focus only on my voice.” With her eyes closed, his British timbre rumbled through the air, making her vibrate along with it. “Even if you don’t believe in magic, I know you’ve felt like there’s something else inside you. Something bigger than yourself.” 

For a moment, Chloe allowed herself to forget the logic that dictated her life and try to see the world as Lucifer did. As the words left his lips, she began feeling an alien energy electrifying her senses, coiling inside her stomach, responding to him. To his voice. To his energy.

“I need you to feel that. Imagine you can gather all that energy into one point, and then imagine the candle alight. But, most of all, _believe_ you can do it, and will it to be done.”

Chloe listened to Lucifer and did what he asked, playing along, gathering this _thing_ inside her and letting it pool on her stomach. She tried to focus on a lit candle next, conjuring every memory she had of ever watching a fire cackling, but the heat coming from his palms was distracting. Chloe felt strangely safe and okay with him touching her, the very opposite of what she’d feel with anyone else she’d only met for less than 24 hours.

Her mind was still engrossed on the warmth coming from him when she felt the energy on her stomach rush out of her, all at once. The sudden release of power made the hairs on her arms and nape stand on end and a chill took over her stomach where the energy used to be. Chloe gasped at the feeling and Lucifer’s hands pressed gently on hers.

“You can open your eyes now, Detective.”

Chloe hesitantly let her lids open, afraid of what she’d see. The warm glow and the sound of the flame crackling made her heart skip a beat. “Did I- Did I do that?” She asked, wide eyes frantically searching for Lucifer’s.

“You see any matches around here?” He joked, a proud smile coloring his face. His eyes were even prettier in candlelight, especially when they were wrinkling because of a smile. A smile he’d gotten because of her.

“No. No, I-” Chloe shook her head, trying to push the burning candle away from her. This couldn’t be happening, she couldn’t have lit that candle. It was insane. He was getting her into his crazy, and she couldn’t let that happen. _She was a detective, a woman of logic_. “There’s no way I- _No_.”

Lucifer took the candle from her hands and quickly put the flame out before placing it on the nightstand. “Detective.” He called her to get her attention as his hand reached out to one of hers. He raised them slowly and hesitantly shifted them so their palms were touching. “Can you feel it in me?”

The most insane part of it was that she could.

It had been weak at the beginning, like a flame fighting to stay alive. It carried that tingle she usually felt around him, when his energy reached out to hers.

That small, fragile flame gave way to a spark that roared into a blazing inferno all of a sudden, completely consuming her and making it impossible for Chloe to turn away. Her fingers slowly began to curl around his until their hands were messily intertwined as she reached for more. She had to see more, to feel more. So much power locked away.

Lucifer’s power, raw and uncontrolled, began taking over her, overwhelming her senses, taking her away from reality. It was a mess of calmness and wildness, balance and instability, peace and energy. Light and fire.

His flame began setting her ablaze, taking the spark inside her in a desperate want to fill itself into completion again. Chloe flinched away at that, forcefully ripping her hand out of Lucifer’s grasp and shifting away from him.

“Do you believe me, now?” Just like before, his voice vibrated inside her.

When Chloe dared to look up with wide eyes, Lucifer’s face was stoic, but she could see the underlying fear inside his eyes. She tried to speak, but found herself out of air, and when she tried to reach out to him, her hands were trembling.

“That- That was…” She said, trying to catch her breath and giving herself time for her mind to catch up. “All that power…”

“Detective, are you well?” Lucifer reached out to her, his hands resting on her forearms. He seemed totally lost as to what to do next, so he just stayed there, still and looking worried.

“Yeah. It was just… overwhelming.” Chloe reassured him, her mind still stuck replaying flashes from his light. She wondered if that was the same with all witches. Which was a thing she believed in now, apparently.

“I apologize.” He was somber when he withdrew his hands and retreated back to his chair, closing himself in between his walls.

“No, no, it’s okay. I just wasn’t…” She tried to put that rush she felt, that amazement, into words, but found herself unable to even start explaining that.

“Maybe you should rest some more. It’s three in the morning, way past your bedtime, I’m sure.”

“Funny.” Chloe tried to mock him, but his suggestion was pretty appealing at the moment. But there was something else nagging at the back of her mind, and answers were more important than sleep then. “You said you’d used all your magic to heal me. How does that even work?”

“Well, witches are born with magic. With the power to make their will become real.” He said, his hands moving as he explained. There was something about it that made Lucifer change, as if he was glad to have someone to impress with all his knowledge. Chloe thought she liked the look on him, the way it made his features shine. 

“My kind, we have the ability to manipulate magic, but we were born without it. So in order to perform magic, we must absorb it from someone or something.” A huge question mark began growing on her face as Lucifer explained and she didn’t understand a word of it. “I’m a Siphon.” He tried again. Chloe wasn’t exactly sure she understood what it meant, but she was definitely half-way there.

“Thank you... for healing me, I guess.” She offered as a compromise, a strange smile pulling at her lips. “I’m sorry you had to use all your magic in me.”

“It’s alright, I’m used to limited resources. Plus, you’re far too interesting to let die.” Lucifer’s comment made the tense air lift from around her, and she allowed herself a smile, a real one. He tilted his head to the side as he watched her, as if she was a mystery that needed cracking.

“You saved me because I’m interesting?” 

“Well, that, and because our case is still ongoing.” 

Her brows furrowed with his comment, and she saw he had sobered up as well. In the mess the studio had become after she was shot, it was no wonder their perp had managed to slip away. 

“Jimmy escaped.” Lucifer confirmed, looking away.

“Dammit.” Chloe cursed under her breath. She was a trained police officer, she knew shoulder injuries didn’t completely incapacitate people. She should’ve paid more attention, she shouldn’t have turned her back to the criminal, she should’ve handled the situation better. It was bad enough she’d shot someone and had gotten shot herself. If it was Lucifer who’d taken that bullet...

In the end, it was her fault she’d been shot. If she’d been more careful, Jimmy Barnes wouldn’t be on the loose.

“I guess I’ll have to endure your company for some more time, then.” She quipped, trying to at cheer up at least one of them. The gloom didn’t suit Lucifer at all. The endless excitement was far much better in his eyes.

“Excuse me, _endure_? I’m a delight to be around.” His humor responded in kind to hers, the glow in his eyes back almost instantly.

“Yeah, hold onto that thought, buddy.” Chloe allowed herself a small laugh to ease away the tension, but it didn’t last for long. The dark was persistent in holding Lucifer’s thoughts hostage. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but I can’t let you keep working on this case.”

“Did you forget _I’m_ the Detective?” She shot back, not sure where the playing had ended and the seriousness started. Lucifer wasn’t even connected to law enforcement to want to tackle the case on his own, much less kick the detective responsible out of it.

“You are, but you’re not familiar with witch practices. It might be dangerous.” His eyes were sincere as they bored on hers, and Chloe could see where his concerns were coming from, but they were unfunded. 

“What does it have to do with Jimmy?” Chloe fired back, changing tactics and his focus to make it work her way.

“When we got there, there was something else in the air. It was... heavy, from power. He must be meddling with witches, and if he is, this is too dangerous for you.”

“Alright, I might not know anything about witches, but you do. There’s no way I’m stepping down from this case, so it’s in our best interest to just help each other.”

“No.” She interrupted Lucifer when he tried to disagree. “You said it yourself. I have magic. Wouldn’t it be better if I knew how to control it?” Chloe argued, hoping it would get through to him. Now that she had discovered this new possibility that had been hidden from her for who knows how long – and that she wasn’t completely sure she completely believed in at the moment – she wouldn’t be turning away from the possibility of knowing more about it.

“Detective-” Lucifer tried to speak, but Chloe cut him off.

“If it’s a part of me, I think I have the right to know how to use it.”

Lucifer let out a huff and shone her an impatient smile, daring her to interrupt him again. “Well, you had me convinced on the first one, but that was a good addition.”

“So, you’re going to help me.” She said in need of confirmation. 

“Of course. Like you said, it’s a part of you. Might as well make good use of it.” He said simply, like his words didn’t mean as much as they did. She was still slack-jawed when Lucifer got up and turned around to leave. “But off to bed you go, now. I’m sure you have work in a few hours.”

Her heart sped up at the notion of him leaving her alone, especially in a place she had no idea where it was. “Where are we, exactly?” 

“My penthouse. I wasn’t exactly sure where you lived. It seemed like the best option.” Lucifer justified, taking a step away from the bed, but still hovering around her. Chloe slid back down and settled back beneath the black sheets, ready to drift off. 

She was already half asleep when she felt the tips of Lucifer’s warm fingers running down her arm and his soft voice flowing close to her. “Good night, Detective.”

She’d tried to answer, but the words that left her lips were no more than a murmur.

* * *

“Wha- wha- what are y-you doing?” Jimmy Barnes’ croaky voice echoed inside the empty walls of his house. He’d tried to scream, but there was no one there to listen to him. “Get away from me, you freak! Leave me alone!” He shouted at Lucifer, trying in vain to crawl backwards from his place down on the floor and into the dark. As if he could ever escape the Devil’s wrath.

“Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy.” Lucifer tsked as she approached the larvae on the floor ever so slowly, enjoying to see him squirm. He crouched next to him and permitted his glamour to drop for the barest of seconds. “The fun’s just begun.”

Maze stepped around him, knifes in the ready and pointed at the scum on the floor. She let her glamour drop as well, the stench of Hell surrounding both its creatures. 

“Go easy on him, Maze.” Lucifer told her while Jimmy screamed his throat raw, ignoring the putrid smell of urine and blood and gore. “I have some other plans in store for his future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support <3
> 
> (For some reason I couldn't stop thinking about Hagrid as I wrote this one  
Yer a witch, Chloe)
> 
> Chapters are going to diverge more from the show's plot from now on. Original events are mostly shifted around to fit this story and set the pace and the timing of future events. Hope you'll enjoy it.


	7. The Magic

A knock on the door startled Chloe out of her trance. She rubbed her eyes and checked the time on her phone. She’d been staring at the clock for so long that the numbers had lost meaning to her. 

It was precisely eight pm, exactly when Lucifer had said he’d arrive. Chloe got up from the couch to open the door, feeling the tingle of his imminent presence already taking over her senses. It somehow managed to calm her down, the weird familiarity of the feeling. She’d been so nervous with the whole magic lessons and him coming over that she’d had trouble focusing at work.

Chloe opened the door to find Lucifer standing outside, fingers anxiously drumming at his thigs and big, round eyes wide as he looked around.

“Do you really live here? I thought I must have gotten the wrong address.” He blurted instead of greeting her, his eyes continuously scanning the front porch and the little of the inside he could see. When she didn’t promptly answer, he stormed his way past her, leaving Chloe baffled at his apparent excitement as he looked around. “How do you afford this place? Do you take bribes?”

She blinked, shocked at his question before she remembered it was Lucifer she was talking about, and he had absolutely no filter. He’d probably find it amusing if she took bribes. “I don’t.” Chloe replied before he could start rambling again. 

“I had no idea that Hot Tub High School paid so well.” Lucifer commented when his exploring led him to one of her mother’s movie posters and the small table filled with her awards.

“It didn’t.” She denied again, coming to stand close to him this time. This tingling he provoked in her any time he was around was just the distraction she needed to send her nervousness away. After all, it wasn’t every day that your witch friend came over to teach you magic.

“So,” Lucifer started again, looking expectantly at her. “How do you afford this place?” He tried to focus on her, but he couldn’t keep quiet for long. Soon enough, his eyes had resumed their exploration, fixed on the framed movie poster this time.

“I don’t. It’s my mother’s.” Chloe admitted, averting her gaze to the poster as well. It was the one from ‘Althea’, her mom’s most famous movie, and Chloe’s favorite of them all. “I moved in after Dan and I separated, okay.” She wasn’t sure why she’d added that last detail, but she felt Lucifer’s eyes boring on her not a second later. Chloe could see in his eyes that he wanted to ask more, but something in the poster kept pulling them away, and she could see he was having trouble focusing on only one thing at the moment.

“Penelope Decker.” He breathed out, his eyes going wide as he stared slack-jawed at the framed poster. “Hold on a bit. Your mother is Penelope Decker? Queen of 80s cheeseball sci-fi? You have to introduce me.”

He turned his expectant gaze to her and Chloe was struck still for a second, caught up admiring the boyish glee he got in his excitement. “Well, hello to you, too, Lucifer.”

“Oh, right. Hello, Detective. How is your evening going?” He asked, bowing down his head in an old-fashioned greeting.

“Quite normal until you waltzed in.” Chloe responded with a chuckle as she made her way back to the living room.

“Well, you’re welcome.” She heard him answer and turned around just as he was taking his seat on the couch. “For making your night more interesting.” Lucifer clarified with a hand gesture, and Chloe’s eyes rolled involuntarily.

For a moment that stretched for too long, they simply kept staring at the other, anxiety building up in both of them. It was ridiculous that she was this nervous, she was a trained police officer. Her nerves didn’t get in her way.

But when it came to magic, she was at a loss. It wasn’t Lucifer that made her nervous, she’d gotten to know him pretty well since that run up at the bookshop. It was quite the contrary, actually. Chloe felt that she could lean on him for stuff like that.

What made her nervous was the fact that there was a thing inside her, a thing she didn’t quite believe on and that she didn’t understand one bit. And she’d have to give up control if she wanted to figure out what that was.

“Guess who showed up at the precinct today.” Chloe blurted out, resorting to the topic she had actual expertise in to calm her erratic heart. She watched as Lucifer shuffled awkwardly in his seat, averting his eyes from hers. His obvious avoidance of her was as much confirmation as she could’ve asked for.

“Hm?” He hummed with disinterest, completely failing in his attempts to feign ignorance. His eyes continued to scan the room he was in until they reluctantly found hers.

“Jimmy Barnes.” She replied, amused as she watched him pretend to be surprised.

“Really?”

“Yeah, _really_.” Chloe commented back, trying to hold in a chuckle as Lucifer kept nodding and nodding, for longer than was normal.

The moment Jimmy showed up at the precinct earlier that day ready to confess, Chloe knew Lucifer had had a finger on it. The man had seemed to be spooked by his own shadow, constantly looking over his shoulder and muttering unintelligible things about the devil. 

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know how Lucifer had gotten him to turn himself in. The only thing Chloe knew was that another criminal was out of the streets, and that was all that mattered. She could only hope now that with Jimmy arrested and convicted for Delilah’s murder, Lucifer would be able to forgive himself for what had happened to his friend and maybe find some peace.

“Are you ready for magic times, Detective?” He asked, the sound of him clearing his throat breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Actually, there’s something I want to show you first.” Chloe said before she could stop herself. She noticed the curiosity shining in Lucifer’s eyes as he got up to follow her up the stairs to the second floor.

“Is it your bedroom by any chance? Because I’m game if you are.” Lucifer babbled as they climbed the last couple steps, and her eye roll was inevitable. She opened her mouth to deny it, but he continued before she had the chance to do so. “Does this mean you’ve thought about my offer, then?”

“It isn’t.” Chloe said, stressing the sentence as she abruptly turned around. Lucifer stopped himself just short of running into her, coming to stand completely on her personal space and making no move to step away. “And I didn’t.” She denied again, but her words were weaker this time. With him standing so close to her that Chloe could smell his cologne, it was hard not to look up at his soft lips and keep her mind from wondering.

Wondering how kissing him would feel like, how rough his stubble would feel on her palms, how soft his curls were with her fingers threaded through them, how his hands would feel on her skin, his fingers dancing on her like they danced on the keys of his piano...

Lucifer grinned wickedly at her, as if he knew exactly what had been going on in her mind. Chloe felt all the blood in her body rushing up to her cheeks, making them burn bright red in embarrassment. His grin grew even more if it was possible when he noticed the color on her cheeks, but Lucifer didn’t comment on it.

Chloe forced her mind out of the gutter, convincing herself that it was just all his innuendos and constant flirting that had her losing her composure for a second, but then he licked his lips before forcing his gaze away from her, and just like that her resolves began crumbling away again.

His eyes ran along the whole expanse of the corridor before falling back to her lips before focusing back in her eyes. “Well, it’s a lovely corridor?” Lucifer half asked, half stated, his head tilting to the side in that way that made him look soft.

Chloe let out a small laugh at his antics, and it made his smile stretch just that tiny bit more. She rose her eyes to the trapdoor on the ceiling and noticed him doing the same, but when she looked back down, Lucifer was grinning at her, mischief returned at full force in his eyes.

For a second, Chloe wondered if he’d make her jump to open it with him standing that close, but before she could clarify what she meant, Lucifer reached his hand up and pulled the latch, never breaking eye contact with her.

She felt the heat getting worse in her cheeks as she tried – and failed – to ignore how good he’d looked doing that, with his muscles clearly visible through his suit. Lucifer suddenly took a step back, and Chloe felt herself being pulled into the void that had been created where he’d been standing.

“Ladies first.” He said in a deep voice that made the air rumble around her.

Chloe climbed up first, sensing the change of atmosphere down to her bones. The attic still held the same eerie feeling as before, with the skylight letting the moon glow light up the dark wooded interior. 

She watched Lucifer climb up the stairs after her and take in the new environment, coming to stand almost as close to her as he’d been before. Chloe’s focused stayed on him as his eyes drifted around, secretly loving the small smile beginning to form at the corner of his lips. She was glad she’d decided to try to clean out the attic in frustration after her last case, otherwise they’d be chocking in dust.

“There are a lot of candles up here.” Lucifer mentioned as his eyes finished their journey on hers. “Want to try lighting them up?”

Her eyes went wide as she quickly scanned the room counting at least thirteen candles, all in different spent states. “All of them?” She asked, just to be sure. One look at his eyes confirmed that, indeed, he was. She began to unconsciously pull at her fingers. “You really think I can do it?” 

“I do.” His voice was low, engulfed in the dark, but she could see his eyes glistening in the moonlight and it gave her a strange sort of confidence, of clarity.

Chloe mumbled an ‘okay’ before closing her eyes, but she had no idea on how to proceed. Last time, she was holding the candle, and Lucifer had walked her through it, and he’d held her hands. And to be honest, she wasn’t exactly sure how much of it had been a conscious decision and how much of it had been her instincts. She’d been more focused on him than she cared to admit.

Chloe let out a breath and steeled herself. She could do this.

“Maybe not close your eyes just yet, darling.” Her eyes flew open with his words and Chloe felt heat rise up to her cheeks. “First – at least in the beginning – you’ll want to look around and spot all the candles you want to light. Then, close your eyes.”

She did as he said, looking around and trying to keep the location of all candles to the forefront of her mind, before she closed her eyes. Chloe took a deep breath and remained completely still, hearing the floorboards creak as Lucifer moved around her.

He came to a stop just behind her, so close she could feel his body heat searing into the skin of her back but without him actually touching her. Chloe took in a barely audible gasp and shivered despite feeling his warmth taking over her.

“Now,” his voice came out husky, his hot breath tingling the skin of her neck, his lips barely ghosting on her ear. “All you have to do… is want it.”

And Chloe did. She felt an energy coiling inside her, powered by the burning warmth of him. And she wanted it – if it was him or the candles, she didn’t know – but she’d wanted, and the energy condensed all on itself before exploding inside her. The release of power made her weak on her knees, and not a second later he was there. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her to the firm planes of his body and stopping her from tumbling to the ground.

When Chloe opened her eyes, it was to the amber glow of flames. His breath ghosted just below her jawline, and she turned to face him, only now noticing how close they were, and how right he felt wrapped around her. A wave of guilt began growing inside her as she thought about Dan and their messy sort-of relationship, but it dimmed down once she noticed the look of pure pride in Lucifer’s eyes.

It made her feel like she could do anything.

A smile began taking over her face and Chloe gently slid out of his embrace once she got her footing back. She began turning around, her eyes landing on every single lit candle in the room, and her smile just kept on growing.

“This- I- I, it’s just-“ She tried to speak, her eyes shifting from Lucifer to the candles, her mind still trying to catch up on what had just happened. “It’s amazing.” She settled for, watching his eyes take a soft edge.

“You certainly are.”

Chloe froze, her eyes trapped on his. The tingling was very appealing, drawing her to him, but something in the back of her mind stopped her from reaching out to him. She felt like it would tear her apart – instinct and mind, new and familiar, magic and…

Lucifer turned around before Chloe could decide on something, and she took that opportunity to save that particular mind melt for later, preferably to when she was alone.

“What is this place, exactly?” Lucifer asked, gravitating towards the bookshelves.

“Don’t know, really.” She confessed, trailing behind him, already missing his presence so close by her side. “I found it a couple days before we met at that bookshop. I don’t think I’d ever been up here before that.”

“Why were you at the bookshop?”

“Following a lead on a case.” Chloe took a seat at the couch, watching Lucifer fumble with a few crystals by the spice hack. “The victim had a picture of my grandma at that bookshop and I kinda remembered she used to take me there when I was young…” She looked down and shook her head, trying in vain to decipher those foggy memories she had of her grandmother.

She looked up when she heard Lucifer’s gasp. “What?” Chloe asked, coming to stand by his side on the bookshelf. His eyes were fixed on the leather-bound book that had burned her fingers the last time. His hand was outstretched, ready to touch it, but it was as if he didn’t know if he should.

“It’s- How-” Lucifer stumbled on his words before turning to her, the pure excitement so vibrant in his brown eyes giving him that boyish glee that had Chloe’s insides melting with how endearing he looked. “You have no idea what this is, do you?” He asked her, baffled, alternating his gaze between her and the book.

“It’s an Osborne Tome.” He clarified, but Chloe kept looking at him with a huge question mark on her face, not following him at all. “Right, you’re new to all of this. I keep forgetting that.” Lucifer turned around and took the book with such care that it was as if it were the most important thing in the world. “The Osbornes were a very old, very powerful witch family that had the habit of recording spells and all sorts of knowledge in tomes. There are about thirty tomes left in the world, each of them unique. The amount of knowledge they contain is simply… immensurable.”

“This particular tome,” Lucifer shared in a low voice, almost as if it were a secret. “I’ve been looking for it for years.”

“It burned me when I tried to touch it before.” Chloe confided in turn, raising her hand to touch it, but steeling from doing it at the last second.

“It was a spell.” He explained, turning to face her instead of the bookshelf. When she raised her eyes to meet his, she noticed he had that same glee in them he had had when he told her she was a witch. “The tomes are protected by magic. It’s alright for you to touch it know, though. I siphoned the protection spell away.”

Chloe leaned back and furrowed her brows, trying to remember the explanation he’d given her on how his own powers worked. “So, does this mean you have magic now?”

“I tiny bit.” He replied with a grin, probably amused she’d remembered. “I could light a candle or two, I suppose.”

The grin he directed at her then pushed the feeling of him walking her through it only minutes ago. The feeling of his breaths on her skin, of his arms around her, his low voice...

Chloe huffed, trying in vain to prevent the blush from creeping up her cheeks and going as far as the tips of her ears. “What happened to them? The Osbornes.” She asked in a futile attempt to get her mind out of him.

“They were executed at the Trials of Salem.”

“Wait, you said that they were a family of witches. Does it mean that- Like…” Chloe asked out of the sudden, finally realizing what implications the term ‘witch family’ carried. “Is witchcraft genetic?” She asked, despite being afraid of the answer. She was almost certain her grandmother had been one, the beach house had been hers originally, passed to Chloe’s mom when her grandma died, so the witch filled attic made sense as did the picture of her and her grandma with that book.

That meant her mother could be a witch as well. Chloe didn’t think she was, but she hadn’t believed in witches until a couple weeks ago.

“In some families all members are witches, in some, most of them are. And in some, there will be a witch every couple generations or so. Which is what I’m guessing happened to yours.” 

Chloe nodded absentmindedly, unsure on how to feel about that. One witch every couple generations... it meant she was unique, one of a kind between her family, but it also meant that she was the odd one out. What would her mother think of it? Had she known her own mother had been a witch? Did she know Chloe was one and hadn’t told her?

She broke out of her thought once she noticed Lucifer placing the book back on the shelf, and the words came out of her mouth before she could stop herself. “You should take it.” Chloe blurted out without giving it much thought.

His eyes went wide in a second with a surprised confusion that made her heart tighten inside her chest. “No, I- I couldn’t possibly…” Lucifer stumbled on his words, pushing the book to her. The rare moment of vulnerability in his eyes proved to her she was right in her decision.

“You said it yourself that you’ve been looking for it for years. And it’s wasted on me.” She reasoned, seeing she was getting through to him.

“Detective…” Lucifer coaxed, but without fight left in him. It always made her tremble, how her title sounded in his lips. How would it be with her given name?

That was a thought she’d be reserving for later.

“Just, just take it. And then maybe you can give it back to me when I’m ready to use it.” They sealed their deal with soft, vulnerable smiles.

* * *

Chloe let out a sigh as the hot water fell on her heavy limbs, soothing her nerves away. After Lucifer’s visit the night before, a peaceful sense of accomplishment had accompanied her to sleep. The pride in his eyes at her progress had fueled sparks inside her, and she hadn’t felt that great in weeks.

When morning had come, though, Chloe found herself mentally and physically exhausted. She felt drained of every little bit of energy, her eyelids were heavy, her balance was off, and her limbs had never felt so heavy from exhaustion. The shower was helping with that while also distracting her from all the magic she still didn’t understand, and the text she’d gotten from the Lieutenant asking Chloe to meet her at her office first thing when she came into work.

The water had been working until her hand brushed the new bullet scar on her left shoulder, just above her heart, where Jimmy Barnes had shot her. Her fingers ran over the stretched tissue, gently pressing down on it and failing to hurt her. It had only happened about a week before, and not one day had she had to wear a sling or be stuck on desk duty.

Her daydreaming was interrupted by a crash on the main floor partially muffled by the sound of the water running. Chloe took in a sharp gasp and turned off the shower, quickly drying herself as best as she could before quickly grabbing her firearm on her way to the stairs. 

She had considered taking a second to get dressed, but continued metal sounds coming from downstairs made the decision for her.

Chloe carefully descended the steps, skipping the one that always creaked under pressure. She felt her towel beginning to get loose and slipping down her body, but she was almost downstairs, so she pressed her elbows to keep it still. As her steps neared the kitchen, the sound of something cooking on the stove became clearer, as did the several pans and pots on the counter.

She only had a second to consider that it might not have actually been a common invasion before she heard steps to her left. Chloe turned around in a second and aimed her gun at the invader, raising her arms and feeling the towel dropping to the floor.

“Lucifer?” She breathed out, letting her tension out in a breath. Lucifer’s eyes trailed down her body and then back up with an accompanying grin, his brown eyes dark in the morning light.

She felt a light breeze sweeping through her exposed skin, making her wonder how she could feel it in her entire body. It took her a second to remember her towel lying on the floor.

“Well, good morning, Detective.” Lucifer greeted her in a sultry tone, moving to the stove to flip his omelet while she caught her only garment from the floor.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Chloe demanded rather than asked, her voice taut. She clipped the safety on in her gun and placed it on the counter, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around her towel clad self, making sure it wouldn’t drop a second time. One embarrassment was enough for her.

“Setting the table.” He responded simply, taking a couple forks and knifes to do just that. His eyes burned a path on her body as he walked back to the table, and Chloe felt the red in her cheeks getting deeper and deeper.

“_You broke into my house_?” Her voice came out maybe a pitch too high as she tried to deflect the questions and her thoughts – and his focus – from her naked accident a few moments ago. 

“Yes. Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I made a little brekkie. You were taking forever in the shower.”

“You’re _unbelievable_!” 

“Oh, thank you, but it’s you who should take the compliment.” He said back, not even trying to hide his stares. It only served to painfully remind her how that towel did so very little to conceal her body from him. “Really kept things up since Hot Tub High School, haven’t we?”

His comment made her turn her back to him, a groan escaping from the back of her throat. “I _really_ want to shoot you.” She said, running a hand through her still damp hair in frustration.

“_Tease_.” Lucifer walked back from the table to the stove, stopping behind her for just long enough to whisper that word into her ear, just long enough for her to feel the heat of his body so close to hers like it had been the night before, before he stepped away and left her feeling cold.

She turned around to find him looking through the contents of her fridge, like his whispering ordeal hadn’t affected him at all. “Do you have any truffle oil?” He asked, poking his head from behind the fridge door.

His eyes stayed on her for only a couple seconds before they turned back to the fridge and Chloe was glad for that. She couldn’t help the blush creeping up her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She desperately needed to put on some clothes, and to stop being embarrassed. And she needed him away from her so she could control herself and do just that. So she did the next best – and most logical – thing. “Lucifer, get out, now.”

Her seemingly strong words betrayed everything she was feeling at the moment, but it was enough for Lucifer to close the fridge and focus back on her. “We haven’t eaten yet.” He briefly turned around and turned off the stove, setting his eyes back at her almost immediately.

The open look in his beautiful brown orbs made _things_ coil inside her stomach in the most pleasant way, the type of things she shouldn’t be feeling because of him. Chloe felt the tingling of his presence gracing her skin, almost making her forget she was trying to kick him out.

“_Out_.” She said with determination, reaching forward to grab his undoubtedly very expensive sleeve and drag him towards the front door. She couldn’t have him around after this whole fiasco. Especially since it seemed her body had decided to betray her mind and react to his teasing.

Chloe was about to open the door when he spoke next, making her hand freeze just above the handle. 

“I merely wished to see how you were doing.” Lucifer blurted out, his soft voice attracting her wide eyes to his. He blinked a couple times, stunned, as if he hadn’t intended to let the words escape. “I thought you might be spent after last night.” He clarified, his eyes focused on the floor this time.

Chloe’s grip on his sleeve eased out and her hand dropped from the handle back to her side. His eyes raised to meet hers, so open and brown and pretty in the early morning sun, and for a second she considered letting him stay for breakfast.

Her daydreaming was cut short when the door she had considered throwing Lucifer out of was forcefully opened, making the wood creak under the pressure. 

“What the hell, Chloe!” Dan’s voice thundered from the outside as Chloe struggled to maintain the balance the door being opened had disrupted. The hand that wasn’t still holding Lucifer’s sleeve shot up to hold her towel in place as the sea breeze swept in.

Dan took a step forward and crashed both his palms on Lucifer’s chest, pushing him a couple steps back. Of course he’d heard what Lucifer had said and misinterpreted it. “What in God’s name are you doing here?”

Lucifer’s eyes immediately found hers in concern before shifting to Dan a second later, but with disdain this time. “Nothing in his name. Here on my own, actually.” Lucifer spat back, his hands unconsciously smoothing any wrinkle that might have been made in his suit.

“Are you sleeping with this idiot?” Dan turned to her, finally acknowledging her presence beyond first seeing her in a towel. His ragged tone was a shock to her, until she noticed the fire in his eyes was directed at Lucifer alone, not at finding someone in her house while she was only wearing a towel.

He _really_ needed to sort out his priorities straight.

“She hasn’t had the pleasure, no.” Lucifer answered before she could, and in a much calmer tone than Chloe would have. 

“Okay, everybody out.” She said in a commanding tone, reaching back to grab Lucifer’s sleeve and usher him and Dan out of her house while still trying to manage the towel around her. Chloe had almost gotten Lucifer out when he grounded his heels on the floor and she couldn’t move him anymore. He looked down at her ready to protest, but she beat him to it, her voice in a much softer tone this time. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Fine.” Lucifer grumbled but relented. His eyes focused on her and her alone, taking that soft edge she found so endearing. “Have a nice day, Detective.” He bid her farewell with a curt nod, but lingered in place staring at her for a couple long second before he shook his head and forced himself to walk away.

“Really, Chloe? I’m disappointed in you.” Dan said to her in condescension, his eyes trailing fire in Lucifer’s path as he left. 

Chloe slammed the door shut the second he stepped outside, letting the loud bang ease some of her pent up anger at Dan. She was an adult, and a police detective, nonetheless. She could very well take care of herself. She didn’t need him and his opinions, and much less his judgements.

With one last hateful stare at the door, Chloe turned around and climbed the stairs to try to get some of the normalcy back to her morning routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who doesn't need a hot, british, witch friend to come by and teach you magic?  
magic lessons 101: proper procedure in lighting candles  
guess it's a classic for a reason, right?
> 
> be prepared for more Dan the Douche, he just can't seem to stop himself and he really needs to sort out those priorities of his
> 
> as always, thank you all for the support, it's really appreciated <3 hope you're enjoying this ride


	8. The Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic depictions of blood  
nothing too major, just a couple lines describing an injury

Lucifer looked around the penthouse one more time and let out a steeling breath. It would all be fine. He could do this.

From the moment he’d opened his eyes in the morning, a tense wave had begun forming inside him, growing as the clock ticked, and ticked, and ticked. Every minute, every second that went by was a second closer to the Detective‘s arrival for another of their magic times, but at his penthouse this time.

All of their magic meetings prior to this one had happened at her house, and it somehow added up to his anxiety. Maze had noticed his nervous jitters setting in as the day went by, but Lucifer just couldn’t help it. The only time the Detective had been to his penthouse was during Delilah’s case, when they had gone confronting Jimmy Barnes and she had been shot.

The memory alone of her lying unconscious in his bed, pale in between the black silk, was enough to send chills running down his spine. It was one of the reasons why Lucifer had gone a bit beyond the necessary to prepare for her visit. He’d even considered changing his dark sheets to white ones, but they probably wouldn’t end up at his bedroom as much as he wanted them to. So, he decided his focus was better spent on the living room, instead.

A handful of lit candles were spread around the main area, from the coffee table, to his piano, to the bar counter and even inside his library. It was casting a warm amber glow around all the polished marble surfaces, changing the air in the penthouse to something more… comfortable and soft. 

It had only occurred to him that maybe he should have left the candles for the Detective to light up with magic when they were all already lit. Lucifer was considering blowing them all out just so she could light them up – and maybe let him talk her through it like he’d done at her house on their first meet up – when the elevator dinged, announcing her arrival.

She stepped out of the metal box with a weight to her feet, her shoulders a tad slumped. The Detective shone him a small, tired smile, before taking her jacket off and dropping it at the bar on her way to the couch.

The tiredness in her stance left him unbalanced, and for a moment, Lucifer forgot all about the candles and the magic.

He poured two glasses of scotch and brought the tumblers with him as he moved to get a seat on the couch himself. “What’s wrong, darling?” He asked as he took a seat by her side, placing both drinks on the coffee table. 

It took a while for the Detective’s eyes to meet his, and when they did, Lucifer noticed the purple bags forming beneath them. “Nothing.” She replied without much vigor, and he raised an eyebrow at her, calling her out on her bullshit. “It’s just- Work kind of sucked today. And I know this is about magic, but I could really use a friend.”

Among all the tiredness she carried on her shoulders, a spark still managed to pull through in her eyes. A small smile began growing on her lips and Lucifer felt his heart fluttering.

Instead of cancelling on him, and with reason, she’d come seeking for him. Just him, and not what he could give her. She’d come for her _friend_. The word seemed foreign on his tongue, but it didn’t stop the small smile beginning to tug at the corners of his lips. 

Lucifer had been deeply engrossed in his thoughts, this _friendship_ he’d acquired without meaning to, when the Detective’s phone beeped, startling them both. She grabbed it from her pocket and proceeded to check her message. 

Not even a moment later, she dropped it carelessly on the cushions, a frustrated groan escaping her lips. Her sudden change of mood unsettled his mind and Lucifer let his eyes drop to the source of her bitterness.

“‘Palmetto bitch’?” He read the text she’d gotten with a hint of question. Lucifer’s voice turned into a concerned tone and he unconsciously shifted closer to her on the couch, stretching his arm along the back. “What is that all about?”

“It’s Anthony Paolucci. He’s partners with the guy who took a bullet in the Palmetto case: Malcolm Graham.” The Detective let out a long breath, and it seemed her words were taking a physical toll on her.

“Ah, yes. The infamous Palmetto.” Lucifer commented, having heard some officer’s whisper about it here and there on Delilah’s crime scene. “What’s the story there?” He asked, cautious, afraid that she’d decide she didn’t want to talk about it and leave.

“Malcolm got shot meeting with some gangsters, and… Paolucci thinks he took the bullet like a hero; I think he was on the take.”

“Ah, so you’re a snitch. A nog.” Lucifer remarked lightly, hoping it would help ease her misery. “No wonder why nobody likes you.” He let out a playful chuckle and watched the Detective do the same.

“Yeah, you’d think that I was guilty of a crime.” She quipped back, reaching for one of the tumblers on the coffee table and drinking a small sip.

“You know what they say: ‘Snitches end up in ditches’.” Lucifer shot back, reaching for his own tumbler and using it to hide a grin.

“Oh, thanks, man. I feel so much better now.” Her comment dripped with sarcasm, but there was a spark back in her eyes. For the first time since she’d arrived, Lucifer felt like the world wasn’t weighting so heavily on her shoulders anymore. It felt like she could finally breathe. “No, I don’t know. I just… was following my gut, I guess.”

Lucifer tilted his head, an ironic grin spreading over his lips. It was funny how her magic had been so present in her life before she really knew it by what it was.

“Anyway, I just- I put myself out there and it backfired. So now all my colleagues hate me and don’t want to work with me.” The self-deprecating laugh she let out sounded despicable to him, and so, so terribly wrong. 

Lucifer felt a sudden need to reach out to her, something he’d never felt before with anyone else. He didn’t understand this new feeling, had nothing to compare it to, so he locked it away, saving further examinations for another time.

He shifted in his seat, eyes trained on her, but suddenly uncomfortable.

“I was lead detective on this case a couple weeks after the whole Palmetto ordeal, and the assisting officers didn’t want to help me because they thought I was lying to make Malcolm look bad.” She continued her story and he shook his head to get his focus back at her. “They ended up doing a poor job, and when the murderer was being arrested, he got the turn on them, disarmed one of the officers and ended up shooting a bystander before I could stop him.” The Detective recalled in a flat tone, but the hurt in her eyes spoke volumes about the guilt Lucifer knew she was still feeling. “Things have gotten worse since that and… well. They’ve done worse than calling me ‘Palmetto Bitch’.”

Lucifer gulped down the remainder of his drink in the hopes of washing away the bitter taste that had taken over him mouth. He went to put his tumbler on the coffee table, feeling too erratic to keep holding it, but it escaped his grasp. He reached out to catch it before it fell to the floor, but his grip was too tight, and the glass exploded in his hand instead.

The Detective let out a surprised gasp and shifted on her seat, already reaching forward to check his hand. Lucifer was just about to tell her she didn’t need to concern herself, that a simple glass tumbler couldn’t hurt him, when he felt a drop run down his palm before dripping and tinging the broken glass in crimson.

“Are you okay?” Lucifer could hear the concern in her voice as she took his hand in hers to assess the cut. 

His mind was too engrossed in his palm to try to stop her or do anything else. He was… _bleeding_. Actually _bleeding_.

His eyes were hypnotized by the crimson liquid escaping his gashed skin, slowly dripping from his palm to the broken shards that had managed to slice open his once impenetrable body.

Lucifer’s shock was cut short when the Detective pressed a towel he hadn’t noticed her getting up to get to his palm, making him hiss in pain. He heard her calling his name and forced his mind out of the deep fog that had begun forming around it. “Yes?” Lucifer asked, still off of himself.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes!” He hurried to answer, his voice a pitch too high. He cleared his throat before continuing in a much more leveled tone. “Yes, I’m alright.”

Her searching gaze made him feel uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as the gash in his hand had. Lucifer’s eyes fell back to it, but not to the wound he now bore – at least not immediately. For the first time since it had happened, he noticed the Detective’s hands holding his. 

He felt hypersensitive to her touch, to the softness of the palm holding his hand up while the other worked on stopping the blood flow. It made a flame coil inside him, burning with a gentleness he didn’t know fire could.

It was such a stark contrast to the blazing lust with just a tinge of this unknown fascination Lucifer usually felt around her that it made him want to hide. And he’d considered that, retreating to the comfortable darkness of his bedroom, or to the eerie quietness of the balcony where he could try to see his stars, but the gentleness of the fire struck him still, and he felt himself treasuring the new feeling, longing to feel more of it. 

“I- Can I- Do you think I-” The Detective stumbled over her words, and when he finally managed to look away from the hands holding his, he saw a blush creeping over her cheeks, dyeing her face in a soft red. “Never mind.” She took back, her eyes anywhere that wasn’t his own.

She took back to wiping the blood out of his hand with renewed vigor, and Lucifer had to hold back a pained hiss.

“What is it?” He asked as gently as he could, placing his free hand atop hers. Her motions stopped immediately and her eyes found his.

“I could try to heal you?” She asked with uncertainty, her gaze flicking at and away from his. “Like you did for me when I was shot.”

Lucifer felt a breath catch at his throat and he froze. As much as her offer surprised him, it made the gentle flame inside him crackle pleasantly. He was struck by the openness in her eyes. He’d never expected anyone to… Not for him.

“Healing is a bit trickier than the candles, I’m afraid.” He shared, hesitant words leaving his lips, afraid that she might take it the wrong way.

And she did. She withdrew her hands from his not a second later, her expression getting cloudy. Lucifer cursed himself for denying her something that he’d like for her to do so very much, but he didn’t think she was ready for it just yet.

“It requires control over a person’s body as well as of their life force. Their souls. Healing is… one of the hardest schools to master.” Lucifer elaborated, searching her eyes as he explained. When she finally locked her gaze with his, Lucifer could see her opening up to him again, and relief washed over him. “I do appreciate the sentiment, though.” He felt the corner of his lips quirking up in a small smile, and he saw the Detective’s doing the same.

That new feeling began resurfacing again as he gazed upon her, and it made him feel anxious. It made Lucifer feel like he wasn’t completely in control of himself anymore, and that scared him. He could feel that something had changed in her as well. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite decide.

“So, this case that’s been consuming you. Is it why people despise you and call you names?” Lucifer blurted out, needing that flame to stop distracting him so he could get his head straight. The Detective nodded, her motions tight, and he thought he’d seen disappointment in her eyes, though he wasn’t sure why. She shifted back on her seat, slightly pulling away from him. It left him wondering why she’d done that and why he seemed to mind so much. “What is it about today that made it such a special day for doing so?”

“Malcolm’s wife is pulling the plug on him tomorrow night. So, the other detectives, Dan included, are pressuring me to drop the case, assume the party line, and say the guy died a hero.” The Detective’s voice was strained as she shared, focusing on gathering the broken pieces of glass spread all around the coffee table.

“My spidey sense tells me dropping isn’t what you want, is it?”

The Detective let out a breath, abandoning her growing pile of glass shards and resting back on the couch. “I want the truth.” She said with conviction, her words solid and her expression set. The determination he could feel coming out of her was one of the reasons that made her such an excellent detective in his eyes. 

“Well, than seek it out. You’re a police officer. You don’t need anyone’s permission.” He said, not sure from where those words were coming from, but they made her eyes shine. Lucifer felt the corners of his mouth lifting up in a strange smile, and he felt oddly proud that he could get her to feel that way about herself. He also felt an idea bubbling inside him, and it remembered him how he’d enjoyed working with her on Delilah’s case, and how he’d enjoyed watching her work. Lucifer figured he’d very much like to do that again. “I’ll even help you on this.”

“Hmm. That’s decent-ish advice.” The Detective conceded, letting out a quick huff of laughter that Lucifer found strangely endearing. “And I’d like the help, actually.” She shifted closer to him again, locking her eyes with his. 

Lucifer felt that feeling rise again inside him, and he felt as if he wasn’t in complete control of his mind like he’d felt before, but this time it dialed down when he took a second to access the Detective again and noticed the purple bags beneath her eyes once more, and how she seemed to be melting into the couch from tiredness.

“Just not right now.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Lucifer breathed out, shifting closer to her in turn and melting back into the couch as well. His heightened senses began tickling pleasantly as they always did around her, and his body seemed to have become hyper aware of hers and how close they actually were. And the box inside the breast pocket of his jacket seemed to weight ten times as much. “So, any chance you can introduce me to this Paolucci guy? I’d really fancy punching him in the face.” Lucifer joked, trying to get his mind back to its center.

The Detective laughed, open and free, and for the first time that night, the weight she constantly carried on her shoulders seemed to have lifted completely. Her hand reached out to his forearm as she laughed, and Lucifer hadn’t felt this light himself in ages. He felt his insides melting at her touch, his heartbeats speeding up from her closeness, his eyes unable to look at anywhere that wasn’t her. 

And subconsciously he knew how he was screwed.

“I’ve got something for you.” He said, his voice soft, as he reached for the black box inside his pocket. Lucifer handed it her, noticing her breath catch in a gasp as she took it from him. 

Her careful fingers lifted the lid to display simple crafted necklace with a blue stone in the middle. “It’s beautiful.” The Detective said, her voice strangled. He felt pride rising back inside him, but it faded once he noticed the refusal in her eyes.

“The stone is raw aquamarine. It serves as a catalyzer, helping you to manipulate your magic easier.” He rushed out to explain, stumbling over his words in a rush. Lucifer deliberately failed to mention that he could have chosen from a variety of stones, but that only aquamarine matched the blue in her eyes.

“Thank you. I don’t even know what to say.” She confessed, feeling the texture of the stone as she looked at him. The Detective took the necklace from the box and handed it to him, and Lucifer felt his fingers jolting with electricity where they touched hers. “Would you?”

Lucifer took it from her as she shifted on the couch, turning her back to him. He scooted closer to her, maybe closer than he should have, but he couldn’t resist feeling the warmth from her all over his chest. 

He gently pushed her hair out of the way, smelling the same lavender he’d had that night at her house when he’d kept her from falling to the ground. Lucifer struggled with the clasp for a second before he managed it, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the path of the chain on her nape when he was done, and he could swear he felt her shiver.

The Detective turned around to face him, the stone fitting to her perfectly. At candlelight the aquamarine matched to her eyes even better than he’d thought possible.

Lucifer let out a content sigh as he watched the Detective, that small smile turning the tips of her lips upwards.

Maybe losing his mind wasn’t so bad after all.

* * *

“What happened to this place?” Maze asked as she stepped out of the elevator, her voice bordering on bored. Lucifer rolled his eyes as she looked at the candles spread around in disgust. 

He’d put some of them out after the Detective had left a few minutes ago, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to put out the ones on the bar counter right away. Instead, Lucifer was sitting there, watching the flame as it moved with a strange fascination. And he’d felt calm while doing so, reaching the point of even forgetting about his injured hand that was already healing, until Maze walked in and blew out the candle in front of him on her way to the couch.

Lucifer sighed, shifting his focus to the bloodied rag he was playing with, unsure if he should divulge his newfound weakness to her. The rational part of his brain considered doing so – she was to be his bodyguard after all – but the part of him that still was the King of Hell who couldn’t show any weaknesses was compelling him to keep quiet.

“The Detective was just here.” Lucifer replied instead, deciding to leave the pending subject of his mortality to chance. He turned around in the barstool to face her, and the instant disgust in Maze’s face at the mention of the Detective made his annoyance return.

He’d had the most pleasant evening with the Detective around, injury notwithstanding, of course. Simply talking and enjoying her presence had been more satisfying for him than Lucifer cared to admit. And what he didn’t need was Maze trying to kill his buzz.

“Your pet human?” Maze spat, her words dripping with poison as she set her judging eyes on him. “Lucifer, why do you care so much about her? You’re the King of Hell for crying out loud. You’re not supposed to care!” Threatening steps brought her closer to him, but she seemed thankfully unaware of the blood still coating his hand.

Lucifer wasn’t so sure he wanted to tell her anymore.

“Give me a break, Mazikeen. I don’t need your judgement on top of everything else.” He scoffed, turning back to the countertop and taking a sip from his whiskey. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, coming to stand by his side this time, her eyes finally falling to his reddened hand. Her expression was a mix of confusion and concern, and she reached forward, taking his hand and the bloodied towel to examine with as much gentleness as a swarm of wasps. “What happened to you?”

“Oh, you’ll never guess.” Lucifer let out a self-deprecating laugh and downed the rest of his scotch. Leaving that information to occasion hadn’t been his best idea, in retrospect. “I dropped a glass.” He said, raising his eyebrows, feeling as baffled now as he had been when it had happened. He didn’t see clarity in Maze’s eyes, though, so he decided to elaborate. “It cut me, _and I bled_.” 

“What?! That’s not possible.” Maze countered, reaching for his hand again and running a finger over his injury to see if it was real. The pressure made him hiss, even if it didn’t hurt as much as it had before.

“I know. And yet…” Lucifer let his words drift, nodding to the pile of shards on the coffee table still covered in his blood.

“What’s causing this?” Maze asked, and Lucifer could swear he’d seen fear in her eyes for the briefest of seconds. Something that had never been there before. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” 

“Don’t think about it too much. It’s exciting.” He said, trying to appear cheerful, even if in the depths of his mind he knew now was maybe the time to panic.

“No, it’s dangerous.” She stated, taking the whiskey bottle out of his hands as Lucifer reached to top his glass. When Maze noticed the glass, she took it out of his grasp, too. “We’ve had our fun here, Lucifer, but this can’t happen. Tell me we’re going home.”

“On the contrary, Maze.” Lucifer steeled his resolve, reaching out to forcefully take his glass and the decanter from Maze’s hands. “The fun’s just begun.”

He could barely hear her heels clicking on the floor as she stormed out over the sound of the golden liquid pouring to his glass. Lucifer made sure to fill it to the brim since his perfectly good night had ended up being messed up with. 

The thoughts of Hell that Maze brought back inside his mind left him with a bitter taste of ash and brimstone in his mouth, and Lucifer drank a big gulp of scotch to try to clear it out. He deeply and utterly _hated_ talking about the place, about his punishment. Not that it stopped Maze from bringing it up all the time.

Lucifer was thinking about topping his glass again when he noticed the elevator doors had never dinged shut. He looked up to find the demon standing by it, her hand hovering over the button and he raised an eyebrow in confusion – not that she could see.

He was about to brush it off and return his focus back to his drink when she turned around. “Amenadiel was right. You _are_ changing.” Lucifer scoffed and went back to filling his glass, but Maze wasn’t done just yet. “Helping the police? Befriending humans? _Bleeding_? The Lucifer I know would never do such thing.”

“_‘The Lucifer you know’_.” He spat, feeling the hellfire only the Lord of Hell possessed burning inside his veins. His anger got out of control for a second, making his brown eyes flash red, and Maze’s posture stiffened as a result. “It’s funny, because Amenadiel said the same thing to me once.” He let out a humorless huff before his expression clouded and only the King was left. “Maybe none of you really know me.”

“Fine. Do what you want, Lucifer. But don’t expect me to save your mortal ass from danger.” Maze spat back and turned around, trying to leave their argument on top.

“Oh, but you will, Mazikeen.” Lucifer stated matter-of-factly, his voice vibrating with barely constrained rage. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but he felt betrayed, something he’d never felt before when Maze was concerned. 

Lucifer didn’t feel he had the right to say it, but it wasn’t technically a lie, it had only never been a truth to him. But it hurt how she could so easily make him judge himself and everything he’d done and felt, and how quickly she was to destroy one of the few things he’d come to enjoy on the few years he’d spent on Earth. Lucifer felt sick just thinking about saying it, but he did it anyway. 

“It’s what you were made to do.”


	9. The Week

The loud music surrounded Lucifer as he opened the doors to Lux, the electronic beat filling the atmosphere. He felt disoriented for a second, but the rage eating at his insides was guiding him. He’d only felt this once in his life, this betrayal. It cut deep inside him, over old wounds he wished he’d forgotten.

Only this time, it hurt even more than before. This time the betrayal came from the one person he’d _never_ thought capable of.

She was leaning on the bar counter as he descended the stairs, casually checking out the crowd with a bored look in her sharp eyes. Lucifer crossed the main floor, dutifully turning down all his patrons and their invasive touches as he approached her. On any other day he wouldn’t waste time in indulging in his desires, but today wasn’t like any other day.

He had much more important things to do. 

Maze’s eyes found his over the sea of bodies writhing and mingling on the dance floor, and Lucifer gestured for her to come to him. She did as he asked, filling a second glass with scotch for him.

“What’s up?” Maze asked in a bored tone, shifting her eyes back to the people on the dance floor. The sharpness of her gaze as she scanned every men and women made it seem like she was hunting for a prey.

“I just learned the strangest thing.” Lucifer said, decided to spare them the small talk. When Maze’s eyes reluctantly met his and she saw the anger in his gaze, her entire posture changed. She went stiff, knowing what was about to leave his lips. “Spoiler alert: Amenadiel now knows I bleed.” He said, watching her squirm under his heavy gaze. “I wonder how my angelic big brother got such information.” He pressed, just waiting to get all the betrayal out of her.

“I did it to protect you.” Maze rushed to explain, her eyes widening in the process and boring deeply inside his, but Lucifer knew better. He scoffed, not buying it one bit. “I told you, whatever the danger, I’ll be there to stop it. Whether you see it coming or not.”

Lucifer let out a growl, barely managing to keep his anger checked. It infuriated him, Maze insinuating the humans were a danger to him, that the Detective was a danger to him when in fact she was-

Lucifer stopped himself before things he didn’t understand began running wild in his mind. To insinuate that he, _the Lord of Hell_, couldn’t defend himself, he corrected before it was too late.

“You betrayed me, Maze. And not for my own good. You did it for yourself.” Lucifer said, feeling a void opening up inside him, where his trust in her used to be. In all their time together, he’d never thought it would actually be possible to feel this hollow around Maze, because of Maze. “Who is this human world really rubbing off on, eh? Me or you?” He couldn’t stop himself from saying that, couldn’t stop thinking they’d both been affected by the life on Earth, even if she tried to deny it.

Couldn’t stop think about how vulnerable to the humans they had become.

“Lucifer, I-” Maze tried, but he interrupted her, raising a hand to silence whatever false motives she could have had to do such a thing to him.

“Ah. Don’t want to hear it.” Lucifer told her, feeling a piece of himself break as the words left his mouth. “Because you and me, we’re done.”

Her eyes were wide open, fear settling in her for the first time since he could remember. Lucifer felt it himself, this sudden desperation only change could cause.

From as long as he remembered, they’d been together. Together through conquering Hell, keeping it under control, ruling it. Together when they left. And now they would be apart, alone in a world none of them really knew. Among the humans that confused him and that she hated. Two creatures of Hell, lost.

Her frozen stance was the last think Lucifer saw before he turned around and walked away. That void kept growing and growing inside him, threatening to consume him whole. But he couldn’t let it. He had more thing on Earth than just Maze. 

He had someone to meet, someone who wouldn’t betray him. Someone that supported him, and actually wanted him around despite everything else.

* * *

Chloe let out a long sigh as she read through the millionth page of the grimoire Lucifer had recommended to her, but after the day she’d had – or better yet, the week – the words were starting to scramble before her eyes. She pressed her thumbs to her eye sockets, inhaling deeply to will her headache away.

It attracted Lucifer’s eyes away from the grimoire he was reading to meet hers. He had a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows, but she gave him a small smile and he seemed satisfied enough to focus back on his book.

Chloe relaxed back on the couch, stretching her legs over the empty cushions. She was leaning her back on the armrest, and it wasn’t the best position for her it, but she could watch Lucifer where he was sitting on the floor, his leaning on the couch she was occupying. It felt strangely comforting and domestic, lounging on the living room with books in hand.

He’d showed up for their magic meeting almost an hour earlier, his eyes carrying a void that hurt her just from imagining it. They hadn’t seen each other in a week, and she could tell a lot had happened to him as well in such a small time frame.

Chloe had thought about asking him about it. She wanted to help him ease his worries, ease her own mind from her troubles, and get his trademark spark back to his eyes. But talking about didn’t seem like something he’d appreciate, so in the end she decided to let him bring it up if he wanted.

They’d tried some spells from a new grimoire Lucifer had gotten for her, but eventually their week came crashing down on them. Magic was tiring and they were both already spent. The books and the couch and the comfortable silence had appealed to them both, and it was easy enough to just be in his company and let it soothe her mind. But the entire night, her eyes had kept wondering back to him, making it impossible for Chloe to focus on the words in front of her.

From her place on the couch, overlooking Lucifer reading his book on the floor, Chloe could feel that _something_ growing inside her, getting stronger the more she kept looking at him. Her gaze wandered through his profile, lingering on the toned chest his white dress shirt failed to hide. She watched his long fingers carefully turning a page, his lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, the thin line of his lips... but her wandering stopped when she noticed the foretelling sign of curly hair where his gel wasn’t holding anymore. 

Her fingers were itching to run through his hair, get the gel off to feel the softness of his curls between her fingers. To see how he’d look with it all messed from her running her hands through it, him looking at her with those beautiful chocolate eyes, so alive and dark and filled with emotion, his voice deliciously rough and his accent… 

Chloe’s wondering thoughts were cut short when Lucifer closed his book soundly and looked up, boring his eyes on hers. She could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks when he smirked at her as if he could read her mind. 

It was some kind of magic, she thought. It _had_ to be, with the way he always ended up catching her when her mind was wondering too far from her control.

His eyes turned soft, as did his smile, when he leaned back, resting his head on her thigh, practically begging her to pet his hair.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Lucifer asked, his eyes turning inquisitive. It made a chill run down her spine, butterflies flourishing in her stomach from the intensity of his gaze alone.

“Do you remember Malcolm?” She asked, feeling goosebumps running over her skin, causing the hairs on her nape to stand on end from the mere mention of his name alone.

“Coma boy?” Lucifer asked, confusion rising from the sudden change in subject. His inquisitive expression, with his eyebrows drawn together and his head leaning to the side almost made him look cute.

“He woke up, shortly after the last time we saw each other.” Chloe said as she let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

Arriving at the station the day after Malcolm’s wife would be pulling the plug on him was already doomed to be terrible and there was nothing Chloe could do about it, but arriving there to find out the guy had actually woken up from the coma and was recovering miraculously...

“As if that wasn’t enough, he tricked me into meeting with him today.” Chloe added, watching closely how Lucifer’s expressions changed. She saw the tension filling his eyes, confusion taking over and making him anxious. “He posed as Dan and made dispatch call me, saying Dan’s phone had died and he wanted me to meet him here. Only when I got here, it wasn’t Dan. Malcolm had broken in and was waiting for me inside.” Chloe told him, feeling a chill run down her spine. It had been hours since he’d left, but she checked the chair by the door one more time, just to calm her mind.

“_What?!_” Lucifer let out, his concern turning into some kind of panic as he rose to his knees and threw his book to the side. He looked as agitated as he had when she had been shot on their case together, and for a second Chloe thought she’d seen desperation in his eyes as they scanned her body for injuries. “Are you alright? Did he try something?”

“No, I’m okay. Really.” Chloe told him in a much quieter tone, reaching out to place her hand over his wrist to tranquilize him. She let out a small breath before she continued, needing some of that reassurance herself. “He only wanted to talk. Says he’s innocent, but something he said is bothering me.”

It was somewhat reassuring, to know he’d jump to her defense if she needed him, even if she was a trained police officer who didn’t need some man to speak up for her. Especially because of that. It was good to have someone to lean on to, someone with whom she didn’t have to be strong all the time.

Lucifer’s eyes had been fixed on her hand on his wrist as he worked on controlling whatever emotions that had spurred inside him. Chloe let her thumb run circles on the inside of his wrist to help him calm down. When his gaze finally met hers, he didn’t looked at all pleased.

There was a barely contained fire burning in Lucifer’s eyes that got worse every time they slipped to the door. Chloe gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze and he let out a long breath before settling back on his place on the floor with a questioning expression that she knew was only to humor her.

“Whoever shot him knew about Palmetto, but he said no one should have known he was there.” Chloe said, recounting his affirmation. Trying to find some sense to it had given her a headache already.

“Well, you found him there.” Lucifer pointed out. He placed his elbow on the couch and threaded his fingers through his hair and resting his head on that hand. Chloe was proud to say it had only distracted her for a second.

“Yeah, I…” She let out a sigh, not exactly sure what she was trying to say. What she did know was that she felt sick thinking that Malcolm could have been right about the whole situation all along. He turning out to actually have been buying information from his C.I. went against everything her gut told her, and if it really was the magic compass Lucifer swore on, she couldn’t simply ignore it. “He pointed that out, too. So, whoever followed him could have done what I did.”

“So, how did you track him?” Lucifer asked, shifting on his seat again, but this time completely engrossed by her story, previous conflicting feelings forgotten.

“Partners on the force share GPS locators in their gear so that they can find each other in emergencies.” Chloe explained, watching the cogs turning on his brain until they clicked into place and he understood. 

“You hacked his partner’s locator.” Lucifer said with a hint of pride to his tone and a pleased smile on his lips. Chloe had to admit, seeing him proud of her work made her feel strangely good at herself, especially since no one had ever praised her for that particular investigation.

“Which means…” She said, trying to get her mind back to the moment. “Malcolm’s partner knew he was there, too.” The moment the words left her mouth, everything made sense and Chloe felt like she could think clearly for the first time. “Tony Paolucci knew.”

She let out a deep breath, feeling her grip on reality loosing up for a moment as the implications of that revelation downed on them. Chloe tried to focus on Lucifer, but for a moment it seemed like he world was closing in on her, spinning around with her caught in the middle unable to do anything to stop it.

In between all the mixed feelings and the confusion, one thing Chloe was certain of. _She wasn’t crazy_. She may not know how to react to that, but she wasn’t crazy like Dan liked to point out so much. She was right, and now she was sure there was a dirty cop in the department.

“Well, then. Congratulations, Detective. It seems your case is all but solved.” Lucifer said, pride once again coloring his tone. His words served to bring her out of her mind and ground her back to reality, where she had so much more to process about this case now.

“I wish.” Lucifer’s look turned puzzled and Chloe sighed, not believing the trouble she’d gotten into. “Right now, this is just a guess. I need to find proof, evidence that Paolucci really knew about it, that he was at Palmetto when it all went to hell. I need-” She stopped abruptly, letting out a sigh. Her headache escalated at just thinking how much harder Palmetto had turned out to be. “Especially if there’s another cop involved.”

“I’m sure if anyone can find the truth about it is you, Detective.”

“Would you- Would you help me?” The question escaped her lips before Chloe could think about it, surprising both him and herself. She couldn’t believe what she had just asked, but since it was already out there… “I could really use a fresh pair of eyes. Another perspective, so to speak.”

A smile slowly began taking over his face, reaching as far as his eyes and making them wrinkle on the side. “It would be my pleasure.” Lucifer accepted, bowing his head just that tiny bit, adding to his gentlemanly look.

“Ah, this is going to be such a mess.” Chloe groaned, trying to hide her face in her palms. “And on top of everything else, there’s this new case I got assigned to today.”

“What about it?” Lucifer asked, taking his time to observe her. Chloe tried very hard not to blush under his scrutiny since he’d probably like that, and that would make her blush even more. He always had that amusing smirk whenever she blushed in his presence, like he was proud with himself to get that reaction out of her.

Chloe shook her head to get out of her thoughts when she noticed Lucifer was still waiting for an answer. She got caught up in her mind again thinking if she really wanted to be talking about grisly murders with him.

“Assuming you can discuss it.” Lucifer said, probably taking her silence as a no. It made her realize that, yeah, she’d like to be able to talk to him about that. Her job was a big part of who Chloe was, and she wanted to share that with him. And Lucifer seemed actually interested to hear about it, which was more than Dan and her mother had ever showed. “Fresh pair of eyes, you said?” He asked, a hopeful tone sneaking into his voice as his eyes took that soft edge.

Chloe chuckled at his antics, feeling relieved for the first time since the day started. Her eyes were trapped in his smile as her mind wondered, thinking that he was, indeed, very charming.

“A woman was murdered near downtown last night. Lydia Carter.” Chloe recalled, noticing his posture change almost immediately, sending his easygoing smile away. “There was blood coming out of her eyes, her nose, her ears… And the killer took her eyes with them, but we still don’t know why.”

“Her eyes? Are you sure?” Lucifer asked, his voice taking a serious tone that was such a contrast from his usual cheerfulness that it made Chloe sober up right away.

“Yeah, why?”

“Lydia Carter was a banshee.” He explained slowly, but it didn’t stop a question mark from forming on her features. “They’re called ‘the heralds of death’ because they can see someone’s future. Their demise, more precisely.” He explained more thoroughly, and she thought she got the gist to it.

“So, you think the reason her eyes were missing was because the killer knew she was a- uh, a banshee?” Chloe tried him, looking as uncertain as she sounded. But if he was right, then... “I had this case some time ago, a man with blood coming from every orifice in his face, unknown cause of death. His name was Brendan Berthou.” She shared, her mind diving back possibilities of how she could’ve closed that case or how to find something to reopen it and finally solve the one case that had bested her in months. The only thing that connected Brendan and Lydia was the bleeders on their faces and the mysterious cause of death, but maybe there could be something else. “Could they be connected? It sure looks like the same MO.”

“That would imply the killer knew of her supernatural origin.” Lucifer shared slowly as he thought, his eyes fixed on her but without seeing Chloe. “I don’t know. It could be nothing.” He said, looking away. Maybe it was him trying to convince himself he was wrong or maybe Lucifer was just trying to deflect, but the possibility that this was something more was still weighting on him.

Chloe knew he knew more than he was letting on, but she decided to let him tell her in his own time. Her head was already about to explode as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the suport <3 It's been such a stressful week but I finally got around to answer the comments. thank you for your patience, you guys are amazing!


	10. The Dark

“So this is Palmetto Street.” Lucifer commented as they walked through the wrecked side door of the abandoned gym, his voice booming in the empty space. It served as a painful reminder of how alone they were, especially when he kicked a tin can he found on the floor and it’s sound reverberated even louder than his voice had.

Chloe rolled her eyes at his boyish behavior. She was glad that he was there by her side and she wouldn’t have to do it alone this time.

That place brought up a lot of unsolicited feelings along with the investigation it was tied to, but the worst part of it was the loneliness. It had driven Dan and her further apart along with turning Chloe into the department pariah.

“Yeah.” She agreed with a sigh, feeling the memories of that particular night lurking on the corners of her mind. “This is where my reputation went to hell.”

Lucifer stopped and fixed his eyes on her, an undecipherable look in their endless brown. He stayed there, staring at her, for the better part of a minute before he shook his head and came to stand by her shoulder, a place she was dubbing his at this point. Between all the spells he walked her through and their investigation, he ended up by her shoulder more than she cared to admit. “So, how can I be of assistance?”

“All right, I want to reenact the shooting. I want to figure out what I missed, and, you know…” She said, waving her hands around, looking for the best way to phrase that. “Give you a more detailed explanation about it.”

“Alright. Seems like a good plan.”

“Okay. You’ll stand here.” Chloe told him, placing both her hands on his arms to guide him to the position she wanted him on. “You’ll represent the seedy criminal element.” She explained, but Lucifer opened his mouth to protest even before she’d finished the sentence. The eye rolls were inevitable when he was around. She was going to end up with a sprained eye one of these days.

“Oh, I believe you mean _handsome_ criminal element.” He corrected her with a cheeky grin, seeming very pleased with himself when she got a grin of her own.

“Now, Malcolm was standing right in front of you.” Chloe told him, before turning around and walking to the office door she’d hid behind that night. “And I will play myself. Someone who cannot figure out what the hell I saw.”

Lucifer nodded in confirmation and averted his eyes from her, looking around the abandoned gym. Chloe took the second he’d given her to take a deep breath and still her heart. She hadn’t been by in weeks, and still it didn’t stop her heart from going mad inside her.

“So, in the month leading up to the shooting, we were following a French drug trafficker, Nikolas Aoudi.” She began her explanation, needing something to occupy her mind and keep her focused on the now and not the night of the shooting. Her heartrate had begun spiking due to the confused memories.

Chloe turned to Lucifer to continue her explanation and give him some context if he was to help with the case, but when her eyes found his, she saw that his focus was already elsewhere.

“Ooh, can I have a gun?” He asked the second she her gaze met his. “I feel like Nikolas would definitely have a gun.”

“No.” Chloe told him, rolling her eyes, before deciding to add a comment just to see his eyes light up. “He was more of a hammer guy, actually.”

“Can I have a hammer, then?” As she expected, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

Chloe let out an amused laugh, her previous nerves about visiting the place now forgotten.

“Nope.” She denied him, popping the ‘p’ just to watch him squirm. “So, somehow Aoudi kept evading the LAPD. I arrested one of his guys, thought he was gonna flip. Then suddenly he changed his tune. The only cop who spoke to him was Malcolm. So… one night, I tracked him here, sneaking through the side door. And I hid behind this glass.” Chloe recounted, moving exactly like she had had the other night. She pointed to the glass and turned around to face Lucifer, exactly like she’d been facing Malcolm. “I could see them. It was Malcolm and Aoudi and his bodyguard. They, they looked like they were making a deal. Malcolm was holding cash.” She continued, feeling the same anxiousness she’d felt then.

“A bribe, then?” Lucifer asked, bringing her out of her mind.

“That’s what I thought, so I stepped forward to hear what they were saying, and, accidentally, I made a sound.” Chloe continued, her anxiety getting so out of control that she began looking around the floor, as if she could find whatever it was that had made the sound that night. “I could feel it. Malcolm saw me, but he didn’t react. He just went back to his conversation. And that’s when the shot went off.” She paused, needing a quiet second to pull her mind together. To that day, Chloe could still hear the shots ringing inside her mind. The bullets that were meant for her. “It didn’t take long before bullets were flying everywhere. I braced behind the door, and ran in after it was over. Aoudi and his man were dead. Malcolm was on the floor, bleeding out.” Her voice felt heavy, trapped at the back of her throat, stopping the air from reaching her lungs. She took a big gasp, feeling sick to her stomach from just remembering the day. 

“It doesn’t make sense.” Lucifer’s voice brought Chloe out of her thoughts. Her eyes raised to meet his, but she couldn’t quite decipher the look he was sporting.

“Excuse me?” She asked, feeling attacked. She’d brought him there for the exact opposite. Lucifer was supposed to back her up, not follow everyone else thinking she was making it all up.

“Aoudi would have no desire to kill Malcolm. Trust me, if there’s one thing I know, it’s desire.” Lucifer commented, his eyebrows raising like they did when he was flirting at inappropriate places at inappropriate times, and really, it was hard to get more inappropriate than now. “I mean, if Malcolm were indeed corrupt, he’d be Aoudi’s golden goose. It’d be quite dumb to shoot him.” He explained, and Chloe could see he was right.

She had to admit, it if really was a bribe, than her facts didn’t really add up.

“What if someone else was here?” Chloe tried, testing the conclusion they’d reached that night they were doing magic together at her house a few days before. “I mean, Paolucci knew, right? That’s our theory. So, he’d have to be here.”

“But why would he kill his partner?” Lucifer asked, and she could feel the confusion in his tone from across the room. Chloe only wished she knew the answer.

More and more it seemed like this case of hers was only hanging on a thread. A very thin thread, seemingly like to collapse at any given time.

“Malcolm said Aoudi was his informant, and that he was buying information about a corrupt cop in the department.” She told him, remembering about the time Malcolm had broken into her house. It made a chill run down her spine.

“I suppose it could be that, but wouldn’t he know if his partner was corrupt?” Lucifer inquired in turn, and it made sense as well. It seemed everything they came up with refuted their theory instead of backing it up. Unless it wasn’t Paolucci after all, but someone who knew how to hack Malcolm’s GPS, or someone who had access to it besides his partner.

Or who knew where she was headed and followed her GPS. It was a ridiculous idea. As ridiculous as they came, really. Because Chloe didn’t have a partner. She only had...

She stopped that thought right before he could settle into her mind. It was the desperation, she told herself. The difficult time she was having with Dan. That was all.

She was just tired.

And it was like Lucifer had said. Chloe would know if Dan was corrupt. They weren’t partners, per se, but she liked to think she’d know if he was involved with questionable people doing questionable things.

Dan had said so himself to her. He’d said that he’d know if his partner was corrupt. But he’d been partners with Malcolm before she made detective, so maybe...

“I don’t know, but…” Chloe exhaled deeply, feeling like her head was about to explode from so many theories and so many doubts. “If Paolucci really was here, where would he have hidden? I’m pretty sure I would have seen him from where I was. And how would he get out in the middle of that mess?” Chloe asked, finding so many unanswered questions that they might as well abandon this theory of theirs.

“Where did the first bullet come from?” Lucifer asked, his tone serious like he was onto something.

“Here, I think.” Chloe pointed to the general direction of the fight ring, her eyes drifting around it, looking for what she could’ve missed.

Lucifer climbed the few small steps that let up to it and focused his eyes on the ground as he began walking through the whole expanse of it. She was about to call him out on his weirdness when the wood beneath his feet creaked in a different tone as the others. Creaked in a way that was only possible if there was an empty space beneath it.

That sound kicked the air out of her lungs, making Chloe’s chest burn from the lack of air as she rushed to his side. 

“Maybe you didn’t see him walk in and out because he didn’t use a regular door.” Lucifer commented as he knelt down to get the planks out of his way. 

Chloe was by his side when all the planks were removed, revealing a secret passageway. She took in a sharp gasp and reached out to touch his shoulder to steady herself. She couldn’t believe that was actually happening.

“After you, Detective.” Lucifer said, and offered her a hand to help her down the tiny stairs. Chloe accepted it more out of comfort than anything else, needing something to keep her head leveled.

She descended the small staircase carefully, the old wooden steps creaking with her weight. An old, small tunnel opened up in front of her, with exposed brick walls and spider webs hanging around. There was an odd mix of soot and sand covering the floor, the entire thing shaking with the pressure from the world outside.

The moment Lucifer climbed down the stairs, they were surrounded by darkness. Chloe could feel the walls closing in on her, trapping her down there, almost as if the shadows wanted to swallow her whole. It felt strange, she felt strange. Her senses seemed to have gotten on the verge of madness, and she could almost sense Lucifer feeling the same, with how close to her he kept himself.

Chloe had thought about asking him about it, if magic could somehow get her senses crazed out, but it seemed stupid enough that it led her to keep her lips shut. The darkness down in the tunnel had started bothering her by that point, and she was about to reach for her phone to turn the lantern on and at least get some visibility, but Lucifer beat her to it. He flicked a switch by her side that Chloe hadn’t seen before, and to both their surprises, a faint lightbulb turned on just ahead of them.

The light coming from it was faint, but it was better than being in the dark. 

She felt Lucifer’s presence looming behind her and she willed her legs to move. They’d walked through almost the whole expanse of the tiny tunnel, the walls shaking and dust falling from the poorly built ceiling as cars crossed the street the tunnel seemed to run under.

Chloe was ready to turn back and get out of that dimly lit place when the light from bulb caught onto something on the floor, the light reflecting directly into her eyes. She came to a stop before crouching to get a better look at it.

“What is it?” Lucifer asked, resuming his place by her side.

Chloe took a glove from her pocket and used it to pick the object up. When it caught in the light, she felt her heart stopping.

“A 999 key.” She turned to him, showing him the key she’d taken from the floor. “LAPD issued. Malcolm had his on him in the night of the shooting.”

“So there was another cop in here.”

“Yeah, and it could be anyone.” Chloe sighed, wrapping the key on her latex glove and carefully placing it in her pocket. She didn’t think they’d be lucky enough to find any prints on it, not with how long it must have been sitting there in the dirt, but she could at least take it to the office at the precinct, see if anyone had requested another key. 

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Lucifer spoke quietly in the mostly dark tunnel. His voice attracted her eyes from the key to his and her focus to him.

The warm brown of his eyes had gotten a sharper edge in the dark, the light making his features hide most of his face in shadows. His impressive height seemed even greater in the dark, enclosed space, making her feel intimidated, especially when his voice drifted through the heavy air, powerful and commanding.

Chloe didn’t quite understand what he’d meant, and her eyes said just that. 

“You can’t trust anyone at the precinct with that key.” His words hit her unexpectedly, but it didn’t make them any less true. 

They weren’t sure it was Paolucci that was there on the night of the shooting. It could be anyone, and that person could have friends in the office to let them know she was onto them. She couldn’t trust anyone, especially those around Malcolm, and for better or for worst, that included Dan.

Chloe’s eyes were focused solely on Lucifer, but her focus was nowhere near him by then. Her mind was going wild, but not because of the key they’d just found, but because they reached the point Lucifer couldn’t help her anymore. He’d made his crusade of hers all the more bearable, but now she’d be back at tackling it alone, and the investigation had just taken a turn that made it impossibly more dangerous.

She’d be on the lookout for a cop who had no problem shooting other cops. Even they even suspected she was still investigating the shooting, it made her job just that much harder. Chloe had tried to convince her colleagues that she had closed it during Malcolm’s memorial, but all it took was him waking up to make them all think she was back at it again.

“Let’s get out of here. I don’t like this place.” Chloe told him and she noticed his grateful look.

They were about halfway to the entrance when the light coming from the bulb started getting dimmer. Lucifer abruptly stopped walking, making Chloe bump into his back before she could stop herself.

“Did you feel that?” He asked, his voice hushed.

“Feel what?” She asked back, whispering without knowing why. It didn’t take long for Chloe to understand what Lucifer had meant. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt it, everywhere, surrounding her, making her entire body shiver. “What was that?” She asked, her wavering voice bordering on panic.

Chloe could swear she’d heard screeches coming their way before the weak lightbulb gave out, surrounding them back in darkness.

Lucifer’s eyes searched hers in the dark, and she reached to touch his forearm, needing the reassurance that he was still there. Chloe could feel an underlying fear taking over him from the way the muscles at his forearm were drawn taunt. Honestly, it would’ve been better if she hadn’t noticed that.

“Lucifer, what’s going on?” Chloe tried again, her question firm despite her tone showing her fear. The whispers began closing in on them, getting closer and closer as the seconds ticked by, and she felt her heart hammering against her ribcage.

“Someone sent shadows after us.” He told her, his voice barely above the whispers around them.

“What?!” Chloe turned around, feeling those things closing in around them, making goosebumps run across her skin.

“Quickly, turn your phone lantern on!” Lucifer told her, reaching for his own phone in his jacket pocket and turning it on as well. The second it lit up and Chloe shone it forward, she felt something recoiling back to the shadows with a pained screech.

“What the hell was that?!” She half asked, half yelled at him, not believing in what she was seeing.

“A Shadow. It’s a creature made out of darkness that witches can conjure to hunt down their enemies.” Lucifer explained slowly, and she couldn’t quite believe he was able to maintain his voice leveled when she was that close to a full out panic. From all their talks and lessons and practicing, she hadn’t, in fact, ran into any other magical creature that wasn’t him. “They can only live in the dark, so as long as you keep your lantern on them, we can buy ourselves some time.”

“_Angel boy_.” Chloe caught on to the whispers, straining to hear what they were saying. “_Give it to I, angel boy. Light_.”

She took a step back out of reflex when she felt those shadows getting closer to her despite her lantern. It made her bump into Lucifer’s back, but he didn’t recoil from her touch. Instead he pressed back, desperately needing the support and the reassurance that she was there as much as she did.

“_Give I, angel boy_.” The voices continued whispering only half understandably, making the hairs on her nape stand on end. “_Light bring_.” Dozens of voices said at the same time, the supernatural shriek echoing through the entire tunnel.

She felt Lucifer tensing, his muscles turning to stone where they’d been comforting only a second before. It was pretty obvious to her that those shadows were after him. Chloe hadn’t been aware of her status as a witch until fairly recently, so she didn’t think she’d have time to make an enemy out of another witch that warranted sending hunting shadows after her. At the best of her knowledge, she hadn’t encountered other witches or anything like that – with the exception of Lydia Carter.

So that was the logical reason of why they were being chased in the dark, but what she didn’t understand was the angel part. He’d told her he was a Siphon, so ‘angel boy’ didn’t make sense, unless...

_Unless he wasn’t a witch._

Chloe shook her head to send those crazy thoughts away. She’d thought he was crazy in the beginning, for all his talk of witches and magic, and now she was ready to believe in _angels_?

And this was Lucifer she was talking about. It wasn’t time to question him, her friend, her mentor or teacher or whatever he was. He was the only chance they had to get out of that tunnel alive.

Those questions could wait.

“Detective, I need you to do something.” Lucifer’s strained voice reached her ears, and Chloe took in a shaky breath. She saw the shadows closing in on them, even where the light from their phones was once shining. “I need you to cast a purifying light spell.”

“A what?” She asked, her voice catching on her throat.

“It’s a burst of celestial light. It’ll burn the shadows to dust so we can escape.” He tried to explain, his voice getting muffled by the dozens of voices whispering ‘angel boy’ in unison. It was the single, most scary sound she’d heard in her entire life.

All this talk of Angels and shadows and Celestial things... it was making it harder and harder for Chloe to accept him as a Siphon for longer. And with that name... She did not want to think about the possibilities.

What was hard to get past was that he had never done magic in front of her – _except when he’d saved her life_, her brain insisted in remembering.

No matter the doubts she had, now was definitely not the time to think them through.

“I don’t- _how_?” Chloe asked, not sure she had the attention span or focus to light a simple candle at the moment.

“You need to harness all the magic inside you and turn it into light.” Lucifer began guiding her like he had done dozens of times now, and she felt a strange confidence only he could stir on her. “But be careful about it. Focus only on the shadows, or you might burn us with them.”

“What?! _No_, no- Lucifer I-” Chloe rushed out her words, stumbling on them as she tried to stop his insane idea. She could barely breathe at the moment, especially after his unfortunate comment. “Lucifer, I _can’t_. I’m gonna screw up.”

He reached back for her, his fingers running down her forearm until they reached her hand. He took it on his own and intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “I believe you can, Chloe.” Lucifer said, low, and her given name on his tongue made her shiver. “But you have to believe in it, too. Magic only works if you believe in it.”

“I _can’t_, Lucifer, I-” She breathed out, feeling desperate. It was too much, responsibility, too much power, too much trust. Just _too much_. And she wasn’t ready for it. Chloe felt him squeeze her hand tighter, and she realized that she trusted him with doing it, too. “But you can.” She said softly, noticing him shift uncomfortably. 

“I don’t have magic right now. It _has_ to be you.” 

“You can take it from me.” Chloe offered, and he went still. His back muscles went so still, he could have posed as a statue. She even thought he’d stopped breathing for a second. But he was only still for a moment. Next thing Chloe realized, Lucifer was desperately trying to pry his hand from hers, but she held tight, not letting him go.

“_Chloe_ I- I _can’t_.” She could feel the distress in his tone, taking the same desperate edge hers had. “I- I’d… I’d have to take too much, and I…” Lucifer tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. She felt the shadows closing in on them, so she pressed back as close to him as she could. “If I take too much, I’ll hurt you and I don’t know if I can stop myself once I begin siphoning.”

“I trust you, Lucifer.” Chloe said. She heard him take in a shaky breath, and it didn’t matter that maybe he hadn’t been telling her the whole truth about his past or his powers. She trusted him, and that was all she cared about. “Besides, we have no choice. It has to be you.”

She squeezed his hand in return, trying to show all the support she could while trying to control her panic at being surrounded by murdering shadows. “Alright.” He conceded after what felt like forever, and Chloe felt her heart stop mid beat.

She felt him leaning his head back to rest on hers, and then she felt her power leaving her. It was slow at first, but with every second that passed it was like the dam caved just a tiny bit more.

With time, it started getting harder and harder for her to stand up on her own, and she began leaning more heavily on Lucifer, her legs shaking with the effort to keep her up. His power draining stopped for the barest of seconds when he tugged at her hand and spun them both around. He caught her before she could fall from dizziness and weakness, and pressed her firmly to his chest.

She buried her head there, basking in his warmth as the cold tried to sweep her away, and just let him continue, strip her of all the power he needed.

The last thing Chloe would come to remember about that tunnel would be of her trying to put her own arms around his waist, but feeling too weak to do so. She’d remember his strong arms wrapped around her, his warmth enveloping her and making her relax. She’d remember how comfortable it was to be in his arms.

She’d remember it all, and she’d remember the blinding white light that surrounded them before her world faded out to black.

* * *

The smell of burning sage and smoke was the first thing that made itself present when Chloe woke up. That, and the headache followed by the fatigue. She could feel it all adding up to her mind and making the pressure headache there barely bearable. 

When she dared to open her eyes, even the soft glow of candlelight was enough to make them hurt terribly inside their sockets. Chloe closed them for a couple more second before she dared to try again.

When she did manage open them, she realized she was in Lucifer’s bed again. Black silk covered her lower body, black drapes framing the huge window walls and keeping the few lights from the streets and the moon at bay. The burning herbs and the candles reminded her of the first time she’d been there, when she had been shot.

Chloe tilted her head to the side to watch where Lucifer had been the last time, and like before, there he was. She shone him a weak smile, but unlike the last time, he didn’t give her one back. This time he looked defeated, his eyes filled with unimaginable pain.

“Hey.” She greeted him, her voice rasping at her dry throat. Chloe was glad to see they were both okay and in the light, but the darkness lurking around him stopped any tentative smile from rising.

“I’m sorry.” He tried to apologize, but his voice cracked and it made him seem smaller than she’d ever seen him, in a way that didn’t suit him at all. He seemed vulnerable, but not in the way she’d want him to be. “I- I-”

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed, the reasons for his apology lost on her. She kept waiting for him to clarify and for the tingle of his presence to make itself present, but when they never came, she realized what he’d feared had become true. There was an emptiness inside her where there would usually be an all-consuming presence, a void that kept reminding her of how alone she was.

It made her sad, both for him and for her. Chloe didn’t know exactly what had happened, but she felt like the entirety of her magic was gone. Even when she hadn’t believed in it, there was always something in her. Now...

She was hurt, and _alone. So_, so alone. And she knew Lucifer was, too.

Chloe also thought she felt herself grieving. Grieving the loss of something she’d come to like quite much, some unknown part of her that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to explore more, a friendship that had started over that one thing and that she wasn’t sure would survive this.

“What happened?” Chloe asked, her chest heavy with loss.

“I did it. I- I destroyed them all, but…” Lucifer let out a deep, shaky exhale, and Chloe could see his voice was stuck inside his throat. He finally raised his eyes to meet hers, and she could see the toll it was taking on him. “I took too much.” His voice cracked and his eyes fell away again. Chloe desperately wanted to reach out and hug him, but she didn’t think she had the strength to do so.

“It’s okay.” She told him, her voice as soft as she could. She tried to chase his eyes, but Lucifer was insistent in looking away. “Look at me, Lucifer. It’s okay.” Chloe’s eyes remained locked on his until Lucifer looked at her, but she noticed he didn’t believe her on bit.

“It isn’t. I- I took something from you, and I- I had no right to.” 

“I told you to do it.” Chloe pressed, her voice firm, his gaze now desperate as he tried to convince himself to believe her. “We wouldn’t have gotten out of there alive if it wasn’t for you.”

Lucifer’s eyes fell down to her hands and Chloe instinctively stretched out her arm, offering a hand for him to take it. He jumped at it, shifting to the edge of his armchair to carefully take her hand in both of his.

His eyes were glassy, his grip maybe a bit too tight in her hand, but Chloe knew better than to tell him that or discourage him. If their roles were reversed, she was pretty sure she’d need the reassurance that he was there and okay as well.

Chloe felt intrigued with the shift her own feeling had taken because of her magic-less-ness. The tingling Lucifer always caused was fainter, almost imperceptible on the background as a pooling heat took over her stomach. It wasn’t the same as her magic had been, but for a second it had been enough to fill the void inside her.

“Why were they after us?” Chloe asked, carefully broaching the subject.

“I’m not quite sure. But I’m positive they were after me.” Lucifer confessed, playing with her fingers instead of focusing on her. It was odd, the way he seemed to be holding on to her hand like it was a lifeline, like she might turn and leave at any given second. 

Chloe liked to think they knew each other pretty well by then, so he should know that she wouldn’t just up and run because things didn’t go the way they planned. At least she hoped he did, but with Lucifer she could never be certain. She hated how he always seemed to think the worst of himself and expect to be treated the same in return, and she _hated_ his family for making him think that of himself.

“Yeah, I kinda figured that.” She let out the snarky comment, catching him off guard. Lucifer’s eyes raised to hers in questioning, and she complied. “What? It’s not like I pissed off some witch bad enough for them so send murder-happy shadows after me.”

Lucifer let out a strange huff of laughter than got more confident when she smiled at him. It was nice to finally see him smile, see the laugh lines back around his eyes, the color returning to his cheeks. Chloe preferred his endless excitement over this gloom that was consuming him at any given day, and she hated being the one to put an end to it, but she had to know.

“Why did they kept calling you ‘angel boy’?” She asked with caution, but his instance changed almost immediately. Lucifer’s muscles went stiff, and he slowly let go of her hand, carefully placing it back on the bed before he recoiled back to his armchair, features guarded.

“Because…”He lamented in a somber tone, and Chloe felt his voice reverberate around the whole expanse of the room. “That’s what I am.”

His words were simple enough, but they made her heart stop. “What do you mean?” She asked, feeling her heart going mad inside her chest. Chloe remembered thinking about his nature and how she’d thought he hadn’t been completely honest about it. But she also remembered her conclusion that it didn’t matter to her.

She might not know _what_ he truly was, but she knew _who_ he was.

“I didn’t tell you the whole truth about who I am. I couldn’t.” Lucifer said, trapped between conflict and desperation. He bored his eyes on hers and she could see the pain in them, the _need_ for her to understand it, the situation, his reasons, _him_. “Even now I don’t want to. But I must. You deserve to know.”

“Lucifer, what is it?” Chloe threated carefully, sitting up to focus better on him. She could see the underlying fear in his beautiful eyes and she wanted to reach out to him, but it seemed it would be the opposite of helpful at the moment. “You can trust me.”

Lucifer stared at her for long seconds, weighting her down, before he seemed to have found what he was looking for in her eyes. He let out a deep sigh, hanging his head.

“They called me _‘angel boy’_ because that’s what I was. An Angel.” He said flatly, and Chloe felt her heart stop. “Or better yet… I’m the Devil, Chloe.” Lucifer said slowly, rising his eyes to hers, wide and unguarded.

“What?” She breathed out, feeling the wind get knocked out of her lungs. It brought flashes of that eventful night this one resembled so much, flashes from when she’d noticed all this power, raw and uncontrolled, inside him. It had left her breathless then as well. It had burned her very soul, being witness to all of his fire.

It made sense, how his power seemed to be made of fire and light, how it was so much stronger than she could’ve ever imagined. 

But the flashes of power also stirred the fire inside her, the fire he caused. It brought every moment they’d shared together to the forefront of her mind – all the caring looks, the mutual help, the laughs, the peace of mind at some degree, and all the times he made her think of him as more than just a friend or a handsome stranger – and with every memory, her skepticism only grew.

“No, you’re not.” Chloe told him, her voice surprisingly leveled.

Her comment took Lucifer by surprise, shifting him out of his balance. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to do with himself. “I assure you, I am.” Lucifer pressed on, probably not believing he’d had to repeat himself, or expecting her to react that way.

“No, you’re not.” Chloe pressed on again, not understanding why he’d think of himself like that whne it was so clear to her that he couldn’t be further away from the devil if he tried. He always spoke the truth, he respected her, he supported her, encouraged her when no one else would. He believed in her. And sure, he might have tried to tempt her all the time, but it was a friendly banter, and he always knew when to stop. “You might share his name, but you’re nothing like the devil.”

“_Chloe_…” His voice seemed pained, but her name falling from his lips still made her shiver. Lucifer let out a sigh, his eyes pleading on hers. Needing her to understand, to believe him.

“No. I think I’ve come to know you pretty well this past few weeks, and I know you’re nothing like the devil is supposed to be. The devil wouldn’t have saved my life. _Twice_ now.” 

“I took away your magic. I _ruined_ your life.” His voice was filled with emotion, and so were his eyes. Lucifer looked so desperate, so broken, that Chloe couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to him. She took his hand in hers, but it remained limp.

“You helped me solve a murder, and you helped me with the most difficult case of my career. You believed in me when no one else did, not even me.” Chloe began enumerating, seeing his expressions going from desperate to surprised. It broke her that he thought she wouldn’t come to his defense. “And you taught me _so much_. I’m certainly happier with you around. And maybe I can’t do magic anymore, but I’ve lived almost thirty years without even believing in it.” 

His features went from moved by her words to sorrowful, and she realized nothing she said was going to change his mind. She squeezed his hand to sort out a reaction from him, but when she got noting, she felt her heart sink.

“Why would you think you’re the devil?”

“Because it’s the truth.” Lucifer said simply, his eyes taking a sad glint. “Please don’t run.” He pleaded, but Chloe couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Instead, she locked her eyes in his, and watched as their beautiful brown turned into burning coals then all-encompassing flames. His skin was next, melting from pale white to scarred red. His hair was gone, blood oozing from different places on his charred body, the white of bone peeking through the flesh in a few spots.

Chloe took in a shaky breath, her lungs burning from the lack of air. Her reaction caused him to close his eyes and hang his head in defeat. Her rejection was what he feared the most, and to him it seemed like it would be happening.

She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t believe it. It was all true… and yet… 

Chloe shifted on the seat and watched him flinch. She reached forward and cupped his scarred cheek, the feel of smooth skin surprising her. It was warm to the touch, too warm for humans, but then, again, he wasn’t one of them.

It was weird, she felt weird knowing that. It had changed her perception of him completely, and it hadn’t changed a thing. She could understand now why the small things that were just so human made him confused. She could understand how sometimes his eyes seemed so unfathomably old, carrying the weight of several lifetimes.

She could understand why he was so closed off and guarded all the time, why he expected everyone to run away from him, to reject him and vilify him because of things others said about him that weren’t the truth at all.

Lucifer was speaking from experience when he did all that, and it hurt her _so damn much_ that he’d had to go through all of that alone.

Chloe wasn’t sure she completely grasped it, what it meant for her, for him. For _them_. What she knew was that he might be scarred, but it was still him. She recognized the sharp line of his jaw, his cheekbones, even his aquiline nose. And his eyes, although burning with fire now, still held the same emotion as before.

Her hand on his cheek pressed gently, and she heard him gasp. Chloe softly urged him to raise his face and he did so warily. When their eyes finally met, tears damped both their cheeks.

“What happened?” She asked in a wobbly tone, feeling his tears on her hand.

“When I fell from Heaven I- _I burned_.” Lucifer shared, his voice sounding rougher, but still his. The eyes were still his, the features still recognizably the same, but she came to the conclusion that whatever the hell – ha – he’d been through, he wasn’t the same.

And maybe that was okay.

Just because he was the literal, _biblical_, Devil, it didn’t mean he was what other people – who probably never met him – thought he was. Chloe had learned to judge people on their own actions, not on other people’s opinions of them.

And for her, he wasn’t the big, bad, devil. He was Lucifer Morningstar, her friend, her ‘mentor’, her... something else? He was what she needed and what he wanted to be, and that was all she could have ever asked for.

“Does it-” Chloe tried to ask, but her voice cracked. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what he’d been through, how much it must have hurt to cause him to look as he did. “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.” He admitted and Chloe tried to remove her hand from his cheek, afraid she was hurting him. To her surprise, Lucifer stopped her, placing a hand above her own and pressing it bad to his cheek. The skin on his hand as red and as smooth as the skin that covered his face. “How can you stand to touch me? To be here, to…”

“I told you. You’re not the devil.” Chloe pressed one more time, hoping her lifetime would be enough to convince him of such. Lucifer opened his mouth to protest, so she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, effectively silencing him.

The rough smoothness of scarred flesh transformed into his pure, unscarred skin beneath her lips, and she heard him sob. 

“Not to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After all this time, this is my first Devil reveal. Let me know what you think about it!
> 
> If any of you are lost, Lucifer is still the Devil and an angel. His powers work through siphoning, so it means he nees a source to obtain magic rather than generating it himself. It's an angel think in this Universe.
> 
> Thank you all for the support <3 You guys are amazing!


	11. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood and gore - check the end notes for a more detailed description

A new glass filled with scotch clinked on the marble countertop as it was placed in front of him, and Lucifer promptly downed it in one gulp. By then, he’d already lost count of how many he’d had. The only thing he knew and cared about at the moment, was trying to get the taste of bile out of his mouth.

His phone’s screen lit up with another incoming text from the Detective and Lucifer signaled his bartender for a refill. He pondered checking the text, but ultimately chose his drink and misery, instead.

Heels clicked down the stairs, reverberating around the empty club, and they made Lucifer freeze. For a second he thought the Detective had come after him, but his magic had failed to respond to hers, the pleasant tingling gone.

It came to him not a second later that he’d never feel that again, not since he’d taken away her magic. He took another gulp from scotch to wash away the bitter taste off of his mouth and dared to turn around, but who he found wasn’t the Detective much to his relief and dismay.

“What the Hell happened to you?” Maze asked as she took the final steps to reach him. Lucifer turned towards the bar and motioned for the entire scotch bottle this time. He felt like he’d need it. “Looks like you were ran over by the Hordes of Hell.”

Lucifer scoffed and topped his glass. The last thing he needed was his once friend to call him out on his misery. “Like you care.” He spat, raising his glass to his lips and taking a large gulp.

His phone vibrated once again, lighting up its screen with yet another text from the Detective he wouldn’t check. This time around, Maze was by his side, and she saw it.

“74 unanswered messages from your pet human.” She enunciated like Lucifer didn’t already know what was waiting for him in his phone. He’d feel himself breaking a little more every time the damned thing vibrated, but checking wasn’t something he’d allow himself to do. At least, not in the near future. Not while he hadn’t fixed things. “You finally dumped her?” Maze asked in a bored tone.

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” Lucifer snapped, turning to her with his eyes burning red. He felt her freeze by his side as he tried to get his rage under control. “Or do you think I don’t know about the time you went to her house to kill her? Hmm?”

“But I didn’t, did I?” Maze snapped back, taking him by surprise. “I don’t care about her, but I do care about you. And that’s why I’m here.”

“If you cared about me you wouldn’t have betrayed me, and with my _brother_ – an _angel_ – of all people.” Lucifer spat, turning back to his drink in the hopes of sending the hollowness it all brought to surface back to its dark corner inside him.

“You know what? Fine. You want the truth, I’ll give you the truth.” It was Maze’s time to burst, and Lucifer at least deigned to lock his eyes on hers. What he saw surprised him even more. “I was _scared_, Lucifer. _Scared_.”

It threw him off balance, her admission. Never in his long life had he expected to hear something like that from her, and it spoke tons about how serious she was.

“You’re a Demon, Maze. You don’t get scared.” Lucifer tried to reason, returning to old pejoratives he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore. 

Celestials and Demons alike were consistent. It was about the only trait they had in common. It was to be expected, that seeing so much change would keep them the same, forever constant.

“And you’re the Devil, but it didn’t stop you from caring for a human, did it?”

Lucifer felt his rage rise up again, making the red of his eyes burn hotter, but he willed himself to gulp it down. She was right, after all, wasn’t she? He hadn’t meant for it, but Lucifer could tell he was changing. He wasn’t sure what he was becoming, and he didn’t know if it was for better or for worse, but humanity had caused him to change. 

One particular human had made him _want_ to change.

It was to be expected it would happen to Maze as well.

“I won’t apologize for what I did. I did that mostly for myself, yeah, but I’m a Demon. I’m supposed to be selfish.” Maze argued, backtracking to the reliable unchanging nature they shared, but Lucifer was already convinced they both were far from that.

Earth might be changing them, but it also presented a possibility none of them had had before. That thought kept dancing on the forefront of his mind, unwilling to go away. It was something that had never crossed his mind, but that definitely should have.

“You’re not supposed to be anything, Maze.” Lucifer voiced it out, letting a sigh escape him as well. He felt his rage being drained away, leaving only sorrow in its wake. “When I created you and the other demons, all I wanted was for you to be whatever the hell you wanted to be. Guess I wasn’t very successful.” Lucifer commented, taking a drink from his glass. This whole new thought had made him think of his Father, how he’d unwillingly done the same to Maze as his Father had to him.

“Well, I am what I am, and what I want is to be here again.” Maze steeled, and it made Lucifer feel slightly better with his selfishness. “It was supposed to be just the two of us.” She said, and it brought back memories from Hell, this time. 

“_Through the Gates of Hell_.” Maze and he said at the same time and it brought a smile to his lips. Maybe everything wasn’t as lost as he’d thought.

“I’ll do whatever the hell you want to prove I’m loyal to you, I’ll even play double agent if you want. I’ll send your brother forcefully back to Heaven if you want. But I won’t apologize for what I did.”

Lucifer set his eyes on hers, taking long seconds to think. He swirled the amber liquid inside his glass in need of something to do with his hands while his head was all over the place. When a defeated sigh eventually escaped his lips, he finally recognized how much she had come to mean to him. The month they’d spent apart only served to prove it further.

He remembered something the humans often said: _ ‘you don’t know how much something means to you, until you lose it’_. Lucifer didn’t think that was true at all.

He knew how much Maze meant to him, he only never thought he’d lose her.

“There’s something you can do for me, but not to prove your loyalty.” Lucifer said slowly, watching closely for her reactions. This whole proving loyalty and the dominion he supposedly had over her, it was making him feel sick. 

“What do you mean?” She asked, starting to get worried.

“You’ve served me for millennia, Maze. Maybe you shouldn’t have.” Lucifer commented a tad absentmindedly, stuck in his own thoughts. His words made her freeze by his side, but he was still too deep inside his self-loathing to be of any help to her. “All I have ever wanted was free will, and what have I done but take it away from you? How can I defend something and yet deny you of it?” Lucifer asked more to himself than to her, feeling his own misery grow as he thought about all his past actions.

He stared deeply inside her eyes, willing her to understand, but his conclusions weren’t that clear for her. And it was his fault, he knew. How could she crave something she had no knowledge of and that she had only witnessed on the humans she had despised for so long? 

“What does that mean?” Maze asked with a hint of desperation to her wild eyes. “Lucifer?”

“It means that it’s time you be your own demon.” He told her and he could all but sense the desperation waging on full inside her and taking over. It was understandable. Lucifer would be taking the north that had guided her entire existence away.

“I- But I, I _promised_…” Maze stumbled on her own words, not believing what was happening. He thought he’d seen a mix of hurt and insecurity and fright and dismay in her eyes, all emotions he’d never witnessed on her before. It was proof to how much she’d changed. “I _vowed_ to protect you. What…”

“You can still protect me, Maze.” Lucifer’s word were soft as he stopped her confusion-filled sentences. He reached out and placed a hand on her arm, a comforting gesture neither was familiar at receiving. “And you can still be here… but only if it is your choice to do so. You only have to be loyal to me if it is what you want.”

The weight of his words finally seemed to have settled in on her and Maze had to take a seat at the barstool by his side. She spent long seconds in silence, before her words seemed to have returned to her.

“I-” Maze began, but couldn’t seem quite able to finish. She closed her eyes and took in a breath, and when they opened again, they were set. “Through the Gates of Hell.”

Lucifer let out a breath of his own, feeling light and relieved for the first time in weeks. He poured scotch in two glasses and handed one to her. They toasted and drank, and he was immensely glad she’d chosen to stay.

“What happened to you?” Maze asked after a moment and Lucifer sighed, remembering all the reasons that had let him to drink that night. “It’s been a month since I left. What the hell did you do in the meantime?”

“I screwed up, Maze. Real bad.” Lucifer bored his eyes on his drink, feeling the pain holding his soul hostage crushing him from the inside out. He let out a sigh and proceeded to tell her about everything that had happened, as much as it hurt him to do so.

“Your human… She knows you’re the Devil, but she hasn’t run. So, why did you?” Maze asked in a rare moment of wisdom that made Lucifer freeze. She’d always favored violence over words. All her answers for human problems were either torture or sex – or a weird mix of both. It was either hate or lust. 

Lucifer hadn’t ever stopped to consider maybe she wasn’t all that shallow when it came to emotions – especially since he’d thought of himself as shallow when it came to that. He really didn’t gave her enough credit.

“Didn’t you hear? _I ruined her_.” He repeated once again, the dark edge returning to his voice. For him, it seemed like every time he said that, he got a little bit more lost, a little bit more broken. And it hurt just a tad bit more.

“Did she tell you that?” Maze asked and waited for an answer. One that Lucifer didn’t give her, instead opting for silence, which was an answer all on its own. The Detective had assured him on more than one occasion on that particular night that she was okay with the outcome, so why wasn’t he? “Then maybe you should let her decide that. Free will and all of that crap.”

Lucifer let out another sigh, dropping his head to his hands. After some time thinking about it and going nowhere with his misery, he reached the conclusion that he wasn’t ready to face his failure. At least not just yet, not when he could potentially restore the Detective’s magic.

Maze seemed to have picked up on his change of mood and shifted in her seat, coming to face him more fully. “But you got something planned don’t you?” She asked and Lucifer raised his head, not quite looking at her yet. “You wouldn’t be down here if you hadn’t.”

“I do.” Lucifer confessed, shifting to face her, his eyes bored on hers. He noticed hesitation, and maybe a drop of anxiety on her. “But I’ll need your help.”

Maze’s eyes grew expectantly on his, her growing anxiety making him anxious in return. His idea swept through his mind once again, and he became aware of how insane it was even before he said it out loud for the first time.

“I want to get my wings back.”

The air stilled around them, the quiet club going impossibly quieter. Lucifer’s increasing heartbeats were all he could hear for pregnant moments while he waited for Maze’s reaction, which took long seconds to come.

“You what?!” She snapped, her features going from stoic to an angry sort of confusion. “What the hell, Lucifer! Why would you want them back? You hate them.” She yelled at him, making his temper flare back up again. 

Lucifer looked down at his drink in the hopes he could get himself to calm down. He needed her help if he wished to continue, and snapping when their recent agreed friendship was still too thin wasn’t his best course of action.

“It’s the only way I can get the Detective’s magic back.” Lucifer said slowly, taking deep, calming breaths to keep his hellfire at bay.

“A feather isn’t going to cure her. She isn’t sick or hurt.” Maze argued, her voice with an edge he’d never heard before.

“It’s not what I intend to do.” He said, willing her to understand through his eyes. It was killing him, every second the Detective passed without a part of herself, the part he’d deprived her from just when she was beginning to understand it. His guilt was consuming him. _Couldn’t she see that? Didn’t she understand it was the only way?_ “I need my wings back, Maze.” The tone that left Lucifer’s lips didn’t seem his own, so thick with emotion it was.

He could see the conflict weighting his very being mirrored in her. If he was ever honest with himself, Lucifer had to admit he didn’t think getting his wings back would be the best thing for him, but he _needed_ to fix his mistakes. It would kill him if he didn’t.

“Is that the thing you wanted me to do?” Maze asked, her voice uncharacteristically somber, and Lucifer had to backtrack.

“Half of it.” He admitted, noticing her expressions shifting from confusion to anxiety and back again. Her eyes kept drifting all around his face, and Lucifer had to take a steeling breath, finally introducing his initial interest. “I also want you to give me the feather you took from my wings before I torched them almost three years ago.”

Maze’s eyes went round in surprise, her hands balling into fists. She reflexively leaned back and away from him, with a quick bout of fear crossing her eyes. If it were before, it would have been the appropriate response.

Lucifer had known of her theft from the moment she’d done it. By then, he’d been much too weak to protest – they had just removed the wings from his back after all – and when he’d had time to recover, it had never seemed the right time to confront her about it.

He’d figured it might be helpful someday. And that day was here.

“This is what scared me last time.” Maze admitted, her voice brittle. She refused to meet his eyes when Lucifer tried to reach her, instead choosing to stare at nothing in particular. “And you’re doing it again.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows drew together and he set his questioning eyes on her. What about it that was scaring to her was lost on him. Especially since he’d be the one stuck with a huge pair of white wings that glowered with the light from God and that he absolutely despised on his back.

“You’re putting yourself at risk for her.” Maze breathed out, her tight voice the only thing showing her fear.

“_Mazie_…” Lucifer softened his entire stance, awkwardly reaching out a hand to comfort her like the Detective had done to him once.

“No, Lucifer.” Maze chocked out, turning away from him, and it hurt more than he cared to admit. “This is what scares me. That you’d do _anything_ for her, even if that hurt you.” Lucifer thought he’d seen tears beginning to form on her eyes to accompany her heavy tone, but they were gone in an instant, leaving him to wonder if he’d imagined it. “I can’t even begin to understand you… but I haven’t seen you care about something as much as you care about your pet human in a _long_ time. I don’t understand how you can, after everything-”

Maze cut off her sentence, but he knew exactly what she was about to say.

How could he care as much as he did when the last time it was his Family and they had done worse than just abandoning him? 

Lucifer understood her concern. He was concerned himself. He hadn’t felt anything even close to what he felt now in a long time, and if he was being honest, he didn’t even understand it.

And he’d tried to ignore the feelings and the caring and the vulnerability, but in the end they were just too great to be stopped.

Lucifer could understand Maze’s protectiveness of him better now. He could understand where it was coming from, and while she’d gone to his brother mostly for her own sake, she’d done it for him as well, if in a twisted way.

“Trust me, Maze, I can’t quite understand it myself.” He shared, but surprisingly, that concern didn’t make itself present anymore. There was something about the Detective, something about how she had treated him, reacted to him, that… that made him feel like he didn’t need to worry about that. That she wouldn’t leave him like his Family had. 

“Maybe I should start seeing a therapist after all.” Lucifer commented in a lighter tone, lifting the heavy mood that had come to surround them both. They let out brief chuckles, but the reality of his plan soon came back to loom over them, and he remembered she hadn’t agreed to help him yet.

“Are you sure about this?” Maze’s tone was serious when she asked, sobering up Lucifer as well. “It wasn’t easy cutting them off, and I don’t know if we can take doing that again.”

“She’s been hurt too much. And that was the last thing I ever wanted to do to her.”

A long silence settled between the two of them as Maze weighted him down. Eventually, she sighed and reached for her jacket pocket. A silver box came out of there, and she placed it on the countertop and opened the lid. Inside, a single pristine white feather laid, still glowing with his light like it had been when it was taken from his wings. It made Lucifer’s breath catch on his throat.

Almost three years he had spent without being near a part of his long-burnt wings, without feeling the calming peace they emanated. Just that small feather was enough to make the twin crescent shaped scars on his back hurt again, and him crave the very things he hated.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” She said before closing the lid and pushing the box towards him.

Lucifer wished he did, too.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Maze asked for the millionth time since they had decided to try getting his wings back, but for the first time since that night in his club, it felt real.

There was no coming back from this.

“She lost half of her because of me, Maze.” Lucifer said again, trying to still his resolve. “I have to be sure.”

He sighed, looking around his penthouse one more time. They’d gathered everything the Osborne Tome said they had to. All the candles, all the herbs, all the crystals, all the bloody ancient artifacts… It was all spread around the living space of his home.

Lucifer had moved the furniture around, leaving the middle space for the summoning circle. Maze and he had drawn the runes carefully, paying extra attention to avoid the spell from failing. 

They would only have one chance to make it work.

Candles were spread around the circle, the herbs were already mixed and burning, the channeling crystals placed around for max use of their power, and the full moon was high in the sky. Every little bit of extra magic he might need was available around.

It had taken Maze and him a few days to gather every bit of ingredient they needed, the hardest one being all the magic. They had gone witch hunting for hours on end, trying to find the ones Lucifer deemed deserving of punishment for him to siphon their magic. He could feel it pulsing inside him now. He hadn’t had this much magic available since he cut out his wings almost three years ago.

Wings he was about to grow back now, and with them his endless supply of Celestial power to siphon from.

He let out a deep sigh as he stepped inside the circle with one of Maze’s blades in hand.

“Ready when you are.” She said, getting the metal box that contained his feather, the rarest ingredient of them all.

With clean strikes, Lucifer cut a gash in both his palms. He let the bloodied metal fall to the marble floor as Latin began dripping from his lips and the spell began.

It was a long one, which caused his lights to blink, winds originating in the middle of his living room and threatening to put out his candles. The worst were the sudden outburst of power. They made him waver on his legs, consuming more power that he could afford.

That, combined with the blood loss, was wearing him down fast, but he didn’t dare stop.

When it was finally time, Maze walked into the circle with his immaculate feather and placed it between the twin crescent shaped scars on his back

For excruciatingly long moments, nothing happened. Lucifer’s mind had gone crazy, his eyes scanning all the runes, checking what they had done wrong. When panic had started getting ahold of him was when everything happened.

He felt the feather burning up against his skin, and it casted a light so bright it took over the darkened room and blinded him. A sudden stab of pain ran through his insides, and Lucifer fell to his knees, too weak to stay up.

And then he felt it. _Them_.

He felt his wings moving beneath the skin of his back and he screamed. And he thought that pain had been unbearable, but when they pieced through his flesh, emerging in a burst of feathers and blood, it was the worse pain he had ever felt in his entire life.

His screams were the last thing he heard before he felt the ground on him and the world faded into darkness.

Lucifer returned to himself when Maze called his name, her hand on his shoulder shaking him awake. It forced a new wave of pain right through him as Lucifer tried to open his eyes. He was surprised to see sunlight filtering through the drapes and illuminating the penthouse. It had been night when they’d started the spell.

When he tried to move, he felt a familiar weight on his back, and he let out a sigh, both in relief and fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Lucifer performs a ritual to get his wings back, and they burst out from benath his skin in his back**
> 
> No Chloe this time :/  
I always really liked Maze and Lucifers friendship, and it kind of sucks that they only interact in the show when one needs something from the other.
> 
> I'll be travelling tomorrow, so the chapter may be updated earlier or later than usual. Depends on when i'll get wi-fi. Sorry in advance.
> 
> Thank you all for the support <3 You guys rock!


	12. The Angel

Lucifer sighed, looking up at the stars for one last time. It was easier to spot them there, at the Detective’s beach house, without all the lights and the pollution from downtown. Even at the balcony of his penthouse they were hard to see. He took the last few steps to reach the porch, feeling the sand moving beneath his shoes.

The sea breeze sweeping by made Lucifer wish he could get his wings out, feel it blowing through his feathers.

He let out a sigh as he neared the front door, remembering exactly why he was there. Lucifer raised a fist and knocked at it softly.

The lights were on in the inside, but several moments went by where he got no response. He was torn between knocking again or taking his cue and leaving, when the door was forcefully opened, and a fuming Detective appeared on the other side.

The fire left her eyes the second she settled them on him. Lucifer noticed a mix of relief and surprise rising up on her, and he couldn’t help the soft smile he got from seeing her after so long. “Lucifer?” The Detective called, her voice small.

“Hi.” He let out a relieved sigh, drowning in the sight of her. A smile had begun growing on her lips as well, her previous fire forgotten, until he heard someone clearing their throat behind her, and her annoyance came back. “Oh. You’re busy, I can leave…” Lucifer started excusing himself, dropping his eyes from her and turning around to leave.

“No.” The word was out of the Detective’s lips before he could make a hasty exit, and her hand reached out to grip his sleeve and prevent him from leaving. Lucifer went still under her touch. It had been so long since he’d seen her... “Stay. Dan was just _leaving_.” 

The change in her tone as she turned around to address the Douche was as clear as the sun on a summer day, the fire in her eyes reigniting instantaneously. It was more than clear that they had been fighting. The tension in the Detective’s shoulders was such that it left him wondering what subject could cause that reaction.

“_What_? You’re kicking me out because of that _jerk_?” The Douche yelled back with indignity, his finger raised and pointing straight at Lucifer’s chest. His attitude made the Detective see red.

“_No_, I’m kicking you out because you _pissed me off_!” She said in a barely contained yell, and stepped aside, showing him the door to wordlessly kick him out. 

“This isn’t done yet.” The Douche said before he stomped out of the house, purposefully bumping into Lucifer on his way out.

The Detective let out a tired sigh and ran her hands through her hair as she made her way to the living room couch, removing the elastic band and letting her golden locks flow freely for what Lucifer guessed was the first time that day. He took it as a sign he was welcome and got in, quietly closing the door behind himself.

It was a relief to his soul, seeing her after so long apart. Her eyes were still as beautiful as he remembered, but the sorrowful sadness they carried at that moment seemed so out of place on her for him. He’d been used to their blue shining – with excitement, with laughter, with fire, with desire – not glooming as it seemed to be.

Lucifer slowly approached the armchair next to the couch, giving the Detective some time to pull herself together. He could see the discussion with Daniel was weighting on her from the way she sighed and leaned back on the couch, her stance screaming defeat.

He wanted to do something about it, but he didn’t know what.

“Your fight with Daniel, was it about the Palmetto investigation?” Lucifer tried to guess, but the ‘_our_ investigation’ he so desperately wanted to say got stuck in his throat. She’d probably closed the investigation already. He’d been away from her for so long, it shouldn’t surprise him that things had changed in his absence.

“Yeah.” The Detective said, letting out a tired sigh and raising her thumbs to press on her temples. Maybe it wasn’t the right time for what he’d come to accomplish, Lucifer realized, but he was loathe to simply leave and let her be alone. “I gave him the key we found, thought it would be better if someone else went to the office to ask so people wouldn’t be suspicious of me. He said it didn’t pan out and now he wants me to close the case again.”

Lucifer couldn’t help the hurt he felt at what she said, and the words slipped out of his mouth before he could think better of it. “Daniel is a part of the investigation now? I thought you had agreed not to tell anyone.”

If looks could kill… he’d be back in Hell already.

“Well, I needed the help and _you weren’t around_.” The Detective exploded, fire returning to her eyes, but not the fire he liked. The hurt was palpable in her tone, and it made him feel even guiltier.

Lucifer flinched with the power of her words and his eyes dropped down to the floor. He felt horrible, sick with himself, of his terrible choices, and it loathed him that he had brought even more pain to the Detective.

He heard her sigh tiredly and shift on her seat, bringing her legs to cross beneath her. He didn’t dare look up, lest he see all the pain he had caused her, pain he felt himself reflected in her eyes.

“It’s been six weeks, Lucifer.” She said, small and vulnerable, and it resonated with his being, making his insides cringe. “Where were you?”

It was Lucifer’s time to sigh as he forced himself to look up at her and acknowledge his mistakes. “I know, and I apologize. I was…” He tried to come up with an answer, but everything he thought of seemed wrong. “…_busy_.” He settled for the word, seeing the hurt run through her at the same second as it left his mouth, and he immediately regretted saying it.

“You were _busy_.” The Detective deadpanned, a hint of anger seeping into her tone. He could almost feel what she felt, feel her fire burning hot, infuriated at him and his stupid words. He also felt that she was about to be done with him and toss him out in the street as she’d done with the Douche.

“I- Yes. I was.” Lucifer rushed to answer before she could make up her mind and send him on his way. And while it was true what he’d said, it hadn’t been just that that had kept him away from her. It was the truth, but not the whole truth. ”I just- I _couldn’t_-” He tried forming the words, but they felt stuck on his throat. Lucifer let his head drop down and threaded his fingers through the hair in the back of his head, supporting his elbows on his knees. He hadn’t been able to face her, face his failure, as much as he couldn’t face her now.

Lucifer couldn’t say he hadn’t had the courage to face her, not when he had been the one to ruin her, but she seemed to have understood it nonetheless.

“Hey. It wasn’t your fault.” Her voice, sweeter than honey, drifted until it reached his ears and it hurt him, how easily she could read him.

How easily she could forgive him.

_It was wrong_. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness. He deserved to be _punished_. But when she said those sweet things to him... forgiveness, acceptance, _goodness_... it made him wish so desperately that she was right that it physically hurt him.

Lucifer hesitantly raised his eyes to hers, and the soft smile she gave him felt like too much. He felt too much, _she_ made him feel too much, things he hadn’t felt in a long time, and dare he say, _ever_. It was too much, and it made him want to flee, but he couldn’t.

So, he swallowed his emotions, and focused on what he had gone there to do.

“All that matters is, I can fix it now.” Lucifer felt the air growing heavy around them, almost as if Amenadiel had been there with them and used his powers to stop time.

The way her features tentatively perked up made it easier for him to breathe for a second. A smile threatened to form on her lips, but before it could flourish, she took a step back, tuning down her excitement. “What do you mean?” Her voice wavered as the excited glow in her eyes shifted to a careful hesitancy. As if it were too good to be true.

“Exactly that.” Lucifer confirmed, voice as soft as he could manage. “I can give you your powers back, Chloe.” The shiver that ran through her was visible, and it made his insides chill.

“How? I thought... _How_?” The Detective was struck speechless, her jaw slack, but her eyes still held that hesitancy, like she was being played.

“I got my wings back.”

His voice drifted around the room, stretching for long seconds that turned into an even longer silence. Confusion arose in her features, and Lucifer remembered he hadn’t told her about his wings, but he couldn’t bring himself to explain how he’d gotten it, that all this time that he was away he’d been thinking about her constantly, how to correct his mistakes.

He couldn’t tell her how he’d gotten his wings because their scars were still too fresh, both physically and mentally. 

Simply thinking about them got him aware of the healing wounds on his back. Wounds caused by the wings tearing through his skin, exactly where his previous scars had been, but even more irregular and gruesome now.

Lucifer shifted awkwardly on the armchair, his shirt feeling like sandpaper on his sensitive back. It got the Detective’s eyes back to him, and she felt like she could speak again.

“Back? What- what do you mean?” She asked, decidedly focusing on him and the way of things instead of on herself. “How can your wings give me my powers back? How did you get them back? Why back- I-” Her first question was hesitant, as were her eyes on his, but as the words began coming to her, they also grew erratic. Lucifer shifted on his seat again, this time scooting as closer to her as the armchair allowed him.

“The Osborne Tome you had… That particular one contains knowledge about Celestials. It’s why I’ve been looking for it for so long. It describes an Angel’s Blessing.” Lucifer began explaining, vividly remembering the rough texture of the paper on his fingers as he read through it like it was a breath of fresh air after drowning. The book had been everything he’d needed and more, almost too coincidental for his liking, but Lucifer chose not to dwell on that and preserve his sanity. “When I siphoned your magic, it left a wound in your soul, but I can heal it now.”

The Detective stayed silent for a long time, pondering his words. And with every passing second, he could see an even bigger question mark forming on her features, especially since he hadn’t answered all of her questions. “How? I- I thought you- You have enough magic for that?” When words finally returned to her, they voiced the very thing he’d rather not talk about.

Lucifer let out a sigh, tangled a hand through his hair, and decided to push through it. If they were really going through with it, she deserved to know all about it.

“With my wings back… I have an almost inextinguishable source of Celestial power to siphon from.” He spoke slowly, giving her the time to rationalize what he was saying, and emphasizing the why and the how he now had magic. It was important to him that she knew he had never lied to her, that she understood he’d never lie to her.

“Do I- Would you-” The Detective paused, letting her eyes drift around him for a few moments. She then took a deep, steeling breath, and let herself meet his eyes, her blue ones full of determination. “Can I see them?”

His heart felt like it had stopped beating for a second as ice ran through his veins, his eyes wide as he stares, motionless, at her. Lucifer took in a deep breath and steeled himself like she had only moments ago, his focus completely on her. It was the Detective after all. His friend, his light.

He knew he could trust her, that she wouldn’t purposefully hurt him, so Lucifer tried to remember how to breathe as he simply nodded at her.

He got up in a flash and suddenly found himself standing in front of her. His movement so abrupt that it made his knees weak for a second. The Detective got up from her seat on the couch a moment later and it brought them impossibly closer.

They were standing only a breath away, and the sight of her had Lucifer enthralled. The Detective was looking up at him, her lips slightly parted and pink and plush and there, so close to his own, if he were to just lean down a bit…

But when he looked up to her eyes, it was what truly trapped him. Their blue clearer than the sky on a sunny day, and as warm as the sun, especially in the low amber light softly illuminating the living room. 

Lucifer could feel the heat of her all over his chest, seeping right through his clothes, and the familiar tingling of her presence that he had thought forever gone turning into full blown fireworks. It made him wonder why they always ended up standing so close. It didn’t seem like a conscious thing, he simply felt drawn to her, to her light, to her purity. It made him feel privileged and undeserving. 

Her eyes, searching on his, brought him back to the moment, and Lucifer let out an inaudible sigh. “My wings… they have a way of rendering humans captive to their awe.” He forced himself to voice his concerns, his voice low as to not break the moment. But the brilliant smile she shone him made his knees weak and he was struck, his eyes focus on the wonder that was his Detective. 

It made him wonder if that was what humans felt when they gazed upon divinity.

“I’m glad I’m not just another human, then.”

Her words turned him truly and utterly speechless. He couldn’t understand how this one _perfect_ human could…

Lucifer let a smile flourish on his features to match hers. He couldn’t remember ever feeling… _this_… before. 

He raised his hands to cup her elbows and slowly started moving them to the more open area of her living room where his wings wouldn’t be knocking things down, careful to keep their close distance. Once he was content with their location, Lucifer let out a final breath and willed his wings to unfurl. Her gasp was almost immediate.

Awe dawned on the Detective’s features as her eyes slipped away to his wings. He made the conscious decision not to look at them and instead focus solely on her, and pretend it was him – the _real_ him, not the Angel – she was gazing upon with such adoration.

His breath got stuck in his throat when the Detective tentatively rose her hand to his wings. Uncertain blue eyes met his brown ones and Lucifer nodded, almost unperceptively.

To say he wasn’t ready for her touch was the understatement of the century.

Lucifer felt his eyes rolling back from pleasure the moment her fingers touched his feathers. A shiver ran through his entire being once the Detective began exploring the wings, and the only part of his brain that was still somewhat functional was too busy trying to keep that moan locked inside his throat.

The peaceful bliss her touch caused began taking over him, and Lucifer felt his legs turning into jelly. His wings hadn’t been groomed, or let alone _touched_, in so long he’d forgotten how calming it felt. 

It had been a leap of faith, letting the Detective touch them. Only his siblings had ever been allowed to touch his wings, but with her… it felt _more_. More calming, more fulfilling, more meaningful. Just more.

It had still made his heart thump madly inside his chest, but her touch had sent all his worries away. And in their place, he began thinking he should have come to her sooner.

The wings started moving on their own, curling around her, involving them into a heavenly cocoon of warmth and peace. Lucifer felt the feathers tickling her as they brushed her skin, making her shiver and him smile.

Her hands gradually started to slow down the strokes, until they eventually came to a full stop, her hands buried in his feathers until they found the warm skin beneath it all. It took Lucifer a second too long to open his eyes as he’d been a tad too focused in stopping himself from whining that she had stopped her caress.

When he finally managed to open them, the gleam he saw in the Detective’s eyes certainly wasn’t there because of the glow of his wings.

“I didn’t think angel wings would be black.” Her voice was breathy, wavering between excitement and awe. Her remark made Lucifer sigh, and he finally dragged his eyes from her to his wings. 

He had to admit, he hadn’t gotten used to the black feathers yet himself, but he couldn’t deny their beauty. Their pure black seemed to consume all the light in the room while still casting the soft glow his wings had been distinctive for. That, combined with the few times he thought he’d seen some feathers glimmering, gave the wings a striking resemblance to the night sky – Lucifer’s favorite thing in all of Creation.

And if he’d been capable of admitting that to himself, Lucifer would be able to say he was quite proud of his wings. They were even more beautiful than the white ones had been, and certainly more fitting.

“Angel wings come in the most different colors, but mine didn’t used to be like this.” He shared lowly, seeing confusion bloom in the Detective’s features. It made him want to run a finger on her forehead and send the furrow away. “Since I came into being, my wings were pure white. Until about three years ago, when I landed on Earth.”

Lucifer forced himself to stop and take a breath. It was a particularly painful subject, and his back began hurting in response.

“The wings were always an instrument for my Father to manipulate me, and I was keen on staying here and being _free_, so I cut them off.” His voice grew thicker and thicker as he told her his story. With his eyes bored deeply inside hers, it was hard to miss hers watering or the gasp she took. But Lucifer wasn’t done yet, so he pushed through his own pain and continued. “I burned them, after, so I wouldn’t leave myself an escape route. I believe that is why they’re black now.”

When tears streamed down her cheeks, Lucifer felt the grief he still carried inside himself drag him down even more. Even if his wings were present now, the memory of their absence was still too raw in his mind, and he thought it would forever be that way. The hollowness, the loneliness, the dark…

Lucifer didn’t understand why he felt all of that, and it angered him. Because if he truly hated his wings, how come he’d missed them?

He knew he truly did hate them, he _hated_ his Father with all of his being. But when the Detective was touching his wings, hands deep in his feathers, he found he couldn’t hate what made him feel all that good and happy.

And this change of heart – that deep down Lucifer knew had always been there – only made him even madder, and this time at himself.

“Well, they’re-” The Detective tried to say, her voice softly spoken, but he could feel the words she was about to say swell up and form a lump in his throat.

“_Don’t_.” Lucifer interrupted her, forcing the words out of his tight, pained smile. The thickness of his voice surprised even him, and he felt tears forming in his eyes, which got him even more confused. “_Don’t say that_.”

All the emotion and the hurt in his voice… it didn’t even sound his.

“Okay.” The Detective whispered quietly, trying to calm him down. She removed her hand from his wings ever so slowly, raising both her hands in a placating gesture. Lucifer missed her touch almost immediately, but he had to make her understand.

“They are not who I am. _I’m the Devil_, Chloe.” Lucifer stressed out, feeling his chest would burst from the outflow of emotions. And he felt he had to get out and he needed air and he needed to _breathe_… but he couldn’t bring himself to step away from her. “I’m _not_ an Angel.”

Seconds ticked by in which she simply kept looking at him, her eyes turning more and more curious. It made an unsettling feeling grow in his chest that got him thinking it was like the calm before the storm.

“If you hate your wings so much, why did you get them back?”

Her words felt like a punch in his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Surely she must have known why…

“_For you_. I-” Lucifer hesitated, the emotions on her features so foreign he began questioning his decision. New tears began flowing down her cheeks and it hurt him, knowing that he’d caused her even more pain, but her eyes softened when she reached out to him.

“Oh, Lucifer…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but holding so much emotion that made him shiver. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed herself closer in an awkward hug. The angle was strange, with him so much taller than her and completely frozen in place, but she didn’t let go.

As the seconds went on, Lucifer began to relax into the unexpected touch. He gently leaned down and allowed his hesitant hands to come to rest on her waist. Eventually, the Detective’s hand tangled in his hair, and it felt almost as good as it had felt when she had caressed his feathers. He let out a shaky breath and buried his face in the crook of her neck, trying in vain to stop shaking and regain his composure.

That night was turning into a terrible experience for his limited understanding of his emotions, with them so contrasting and scattered all over the place.

When the Detective pulled away, her hands went to cup his face, her thumbs drying the tear tracks in his cheeks. Lucifer felt his heart swelling at the gesture and raised his hands to cover hers in his face in the hopes of keeping that feeling always there with him.

After long minutes of gazing deeply inside her eyes, Lucifer forced himself to let go of her hands. He’d gone there for a reason, and if he kept stalling, he might never get it over with.

Her hands fell away from his cheeks and he let out a sigh, turning to his wings instead. He reached out and plucked out a black feather, feeling the sting run through his entire being.

“How does it work?” The Detective asked with a hint of worry in her hoarse voice.

Lucifer turned back to her and handed her the feather without a word. She took it carefully and inspected it over before returning her inquiring gaze back to his.

“Close your eyes.” He asked and she complied almost immediately, unlike the first time he’d asked her to do so all those months ago when she’d been shot.

With a last sigh, Lucifer closed his eyes and lifted his hands to cup her cheeks. He let himself get lost in the blinding light he carried inside himself, gathering the magic he needed before forcing that light to split.

It took a vast portion of the energy he had and it knocked the air off of his lungs. Pain flared from behind his breastbone and it spread throughout his soul making him wince, but Lucifer pushed through. The worst part – taking a piece out of his very soul – was done.

He let out a sigh and tried to focus back on her, on imagining this light he’d taken from himself reaching out to her. The power rushed out of him, making him falter on his feet for a second. The Detective felt that as well, with her hands rising to his waist. She softly fisted the fabric of his shirt and it made his insides cringe happily, a stark contrast to the pain he still felt behind his breastbone.

Lucifer mentally scolded himself for letting his thoughts drift away and focused back on the Detective’s magic, and trying to settle his spark in her.

But the theory was easier than the real experience. For some reason, settling the light in her was being more difficult than Lucifer had anticipated. His brows furrowed as he searched the little that was left of the Detective’s power for the reason why, until he came across what he could only describe as a lock.

Since nothing could ever bind the Devil, Lucifer ignored it and set what was locked within it free. The rush of power that was released caught him by surprise and Lucifer felt the Detective’s grip on him tighten as they both swayed on their feet.

His wings curled even tighter around them in response to the sudden surge of power that surrounded the light he’d given her. Her hidden magic began growing around hi- _her_ light, fueling her power even more.

The light grew and grew inside her, taking control and becoming stronger than it had ever been before. It grew so blinding and so powerful that Lucifer forced himself back to reality, and he could have sworn the Detective had been glowing up until that moment.

When she opened her eyes, their blue was even brighter, specs of silver now streaked through her iris, mixed with the blue. 

“How are you feeling?” Lucifer asked, his hoarse voice barely above a whisper. He could feel her entire body almost pressed into his, her heat seeping past his clothes, her skin tingling his feathers. The tingling he always felt around her was even stronger now, more personal than it had ever been before, as if she was inside his very being, a part of his soul.

And he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go of her.

The Detective let out a content sigh, and the smile she gave him shone brighter than the sun.

“Whole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ICYMI: Lucifer’s wings are black now, with glimmering feathers that resemble the night sky.
> 
> This is probably my favorite chapter of them all. 
> 
> Thank you all for the love <3


	13. The Brother

Lucifer let out a sigh, strangely caught up analyzing the golden liquid swirling inside his glass.

It was a warm afternoon, even for LA’s standards. The sun was scorching the world outside, but inside his penthouse he could enjoy a constant breeze that brought the faint smell of the ocean through his open balcony. 

It danced on the exposed skin of his forearms, where Lucifer had rolled up his sleeves before opening the top buttons of his shirt.

He took a sip from his drink, relishing in the cold burn the whiskey elicited down his throat. Lucifer smiled as he placed his tumbler down at the countertop, this eerily pleasant feeling returning.

It had been present for days now, making him strangely proud of himself. Lucifer had tried not to think too much about it, but it was hard not to connect it with a certain detective. Especially since he’d mended their relationship.

Too caught up in his daydreaming, Lucifer barely noticed the shifting pull of gravity as something materialized beside him. When he turned his head to look at what could possibly have caused it, a fist connected to his face that sent him stumbling away.

The familiar swooshing of feathers clued him in to why the punch had hurt so much and why his mouth tasted coppery, and it threw him out of balance for a second too long. The Angel was on him not a second after and Lucifer barely had time to try to get steady up on his feet and dodge the new onslaught of punches.

After a series of dodges, he was finally able to punch the Angel in the stomach and send them stumbling away. Lucifer took that second to wipe the blood out of his mouth and figure out who it was that had decided to attack him so suddenly.

Leaf green eyes rose to meet his brown ones, shiny plum purple wings framing the Archangel, the only one who had wings of such color.

“Ah, nice to see you, too, Raziel.” Lucifer greeted his brother sarcastically, pulling a grin to match the Archangel’s. 

Raziel scoffed, running a hand through his short, light brown hair to remove it from above his eyes. “I assume you know why I’m here, brother.” He said, standing straighter and lifting up his wings into a fighting position.

“Don’t have the foggiest, no.” Lucifer denied with mockery, adjusting his rolled sleeves and trying to ignore the pull to unfurl his own wings.

“To kick your ass, of course.” Raziel said before using his wings to launch himself forward at Lucifer. He barely had time to dodge, his brother’s purple feathers shifting into blades to cut through his chest.

Lucifer tried not to grunt as Raziel’s wings sliced his skin open, ruining a perfectly good dress shirt. He used his brother’s careless lounge forward and his consequential lack of balance to grip his wing base and use his celestial strength to throw his brother at the library glass wall.

Glass rained down on top of Raziel as the wall crumbled to the ground, the shards catching onto the light and giving him an eerie look. Lucifer took advantage of his brother’s distraction to inspect the cuts in his chest. They were deep enough to draw blood, with a few drops running down his chest and spotting through his white shirt.

The worst was that they ran all through his chest, reaching as far as half of his abdomen. And they stung quite a bit.

Raziel stood up with an inhuman growl leaving his lips, his eyes burning with rage. He stretched his hand, palm up, and the energy of the atmosphere began changing around them. Raw power began to coil above Raziel’s palm, the air condensing on itself, pure magic materializing and fusing together.

Lucifer’s eyes widened with fear as he sensed his brother’s magic growing and growing. There was a reason Raziel was called Secret of God, and magic was literally his celestial task and domain.

He unleashed it with a piercing scream, launching that sphere of raw power straight at Lucifer.

His wings unfurled before Lucifer could think better of it, and wrapped tightly around him like a shield. A thick coat of light surrounded them and when Raziel’s power hit his wings, it barely made Lucifer stumble backwards. The wave of shock from the impact spread around them, causing his whiskey bottles to tremble from the power wave and making the glasses clink as the whole penthouse seemed to tremble.

Silence stretched on, and when Lucifer forced his black wings back to their normal position, he was presented with Raziel’s mortified expression.

“You weren’t expecting that, were you?” Lucifer couldn’t help but tease, trying to show confidence despite not knowing if his wings could take another blow like that. A wicked smile grew on his lips as his eyes began burning with power, his entire being lighting up.

Raziel stumbled back, horrified, before cowardly disappearing in a ruff of feathers.

* * *

Lucifer let out a sigh as he strode through the main door of the Homicide Division Precinct of the LAPD. Every pair of eyes turned his way as his purposeful steps took him to the bullpen where the Detective worked.

He couldn’t help but notice the precinct was the exact opposite of what he’d been expecting. It was a modern building, with big windows and glass walls separating the desks, a cat walk overlooking the main floor and a big staircase. It also had a lot less carpets and filing cabinets than Lucifer had been expecting, and that was a plus in anyone’s book.

Uniformed officers filled the main area, walking all around with stacks of paper, handcuffed perps or simply talking with each other. Lucifer descended the main stairway, the sun warming up his back from the big window behind it, while readying himself to join the mass of officers in blue.

As was customary, several men and women turned his way with different degrees of lust in their eyes, all attracted to his natural magnetism. The only difference this time was that Lucifer chose to address one of the officers that didn’t seem much attracted to him, feeling weirdly uncomfortable with the usual attention.

“Excuse me, where can I find Detective Decker?” He asked ‘Officer Garcia’, as it said on her nametag.

“I’m not sure she’s here at the moment, but that’s her desk if you feel like waiting.” The officer replied with a kind smile, pointing to a desk straight from the stairway. Lucifer thanked her and decided to wait.

As he strode to the Detective’s desk, his gaze briefly crossed with Daniel’s, and the Douche’s hatred could be felt even from across the room, already ruining Lucifer’s mood. The further away from the idiot, the better.

The Detective’s desk was fairly simple, with a bunch of unorganized stacked paperwork on one side, some sort of plant acting as paperweight and a computer. Lucifer sighed as he set on the chair by the desk, already knowing he was in for a boring wait.

His eyes found a wall clock after some time, which he kept staring intently at for minutes just watching it tick and tick and tick and tick...

Lucifer was about to lose his mind. Waiting was boring, and while everything seemed to be happening around him at the same time, he felt stuck in place. Officers kept walking by, detectives rushing around, criminals and civilians giving statements and being arrested, and yet none of those eyes were the blue ones he was searching, no blonde hair was the right tone.

So he was losing his mind. Lucifer had always been a creature of the moment, desperate for motion, anything to keep him occupied and take his mind off of itself for some seconds. Boredom meant he had nothing but time.

He was busy trying to not think when he felt her presence near him instead of actually seeing her. He felt a tingle rising up his insides, taking over his being, and his eyes began scanning the crowd, looking for the source of the feeling.

He could feel her approaching, the tingle from her power dancing with his increasing by the second. Lucifer was just about ready to get up, feeling a bit too desperate to see her now with his brother on the loose, but it was hard to find one single Detective in a mass of less competent ones.

When his eyes finally found her, he let out a relieved sigh he didn’t know he was holding. She was wearing a suit of her own, her hair tied in a high bun, looking perfect to her oxfords. He’d expected to find her completely into detective mode, reading some files or manhandling some criminal around, instead, Lucifer found the Douche rushing to her side before she could see him, and coming to stand far too close to the Detective for his liking.

He wondered for a second if that was how close they always ended up standing next to each other. Lucifer hoped she didn’t look as uncomfortable near him as she did now with the Douche.

He was about to just walk over and make his presence known to her, but the Douche turned her around and started dragging her out of the room and away from him once again.

The feeling of her power mingling with his began fading away as the distance between them grew, and Lucifer deflated. She turned around when she reached the door, her ocean blue eyes meeting his for a second. He felt a spur of hope growing inside him, but it was far too brief. Soon enough, the Douche was back at pushing her away.

Lucifer let out a defeated sigh and crumpled back down in his seat. Back to the boredom, he thought bitterly. He turned to her stationary supplies to keep his mind busy this time, using up paper clips and post it blocks to entertain himself. He’d noticed the eyes staring at him, some in lust, some in curiosity, some in judgement. No one ever approached him, but there were enough whispers about him going around. Fortunately, Lucifer was used to the attention. 

He was in the middle of a complicated architectural piece made entirely of paper clips when a woman finally approached him.

“So…” The woman said as she reached him, leaning her hip back at the Detective’s desk. “I heard you were looking for Chloe.” She set her suspicious eyes on him, and Lucifer took a second to access her as well.

She was short, shorter than the Detective, with big glasses and her jet black hair tied up in a high, long ponytail. She didn’t seem like a detective, and she wasn’t wearing a blue uniform, preferring instead a casual aqua green shirt with an animated sushi on it. She seemed to be a well of joy, and suffice to say she made him confused and slightly uncomfortable.

“The Detective, yes. I was told this is her desk?” Lucifer asked in confirmation, just to be on the safe side. Here were enough desks there to get him confused.

Her inquiring brown eyes began scanning down his person, taking in every detail in his face, every curl getting out of place, any wrinkles in his suit. It made him strangely discomfited and confused. Lucifer didn’t understand he reason for that since that type of attention usually made him thrilled.

“It is.” The woman confirmed and kept nodding over and over again, her ponytail bobbing up and down behind her. “She’s helping Dan with a case right now.”

His nose wrinkling was an involuntary reaction to the Douche’s mention, but the bile making his mouth taste bitter was all him. Lucifer looked away in a futile attempt to suppress a scoff.

“What, you don’t like him?” She asked with a strange tone of surprise. Did she not know the Douche and the poor way he treated the Detective?

“Not particularly.” Lucifer replied, turning around to see the Douche leading the Detective to his desk. She briefly looked up from the file she was reading and met his eyes. She shone him a quick smile, but soon enough the Douche demanded her attention back. It made a strange feeling press down on his insides, much like a fat man sitting down on his chest, and not in the fun way.

“Hmm.” The woman hummed with a knowing look, and Lucifer felt even more confused. “I feel you, man.” She told him, briefly patting his upper arm as she watched the conversation between the Detective and the Douche, and Lucifer was sure he’d never been more confused before in his life as he was in that moment.

“I’m not sure I’m following.” Lucifer shared, focused completely on the strange woman in front of him before he felt a soft hand being placed on his shoulder, a touch he’d grown more used to, had grown to cherish and seek out.

“Hey.” He turned around to find the Detective in one of those rare moments she had her hair loose and framing her face, and with the sunlight filtering through the window by the staircase, she seemed to be wearing a halo of light that made the deep blue of her eyes shine even brighter. He was struck by the sight of her, hypnotized by her divinity. “What are you doing here?” She asked, turning her focus more to the woman leaning on her desk than to him. For that Lucifer was glad since it gave him time to recollect himself.

The woman’s eyes kept shifting between the two of them, but his were fixed on his Detective. He took a second to drink in the sight of her, relaxed and leaning back on her desk with a soft smile playing around her lips. He thought for a moment that he’d never seen such beauty before in his long life, but soon enough her smile went away and worry took over her features once she noticed the fainting purple bruise peaking over his stubble from where Raziel had punched him earlier.

“What happened to your face?” She asked worried, cupping his cheek and softly running her thumb over his bruised jaw. And just that faint touch had his insides melting inside him, his mind losing any rational train of thought.

“My brother.” Lucifer managed to answer simply once the Detective had stilled her thumb, but his answer caused her to retreat her hand. “We need to talk.” He said, voice going serious.

Still seconds ticked by where nothing happened. Both of them awkwardly turned to the woman who was still standing there, eyeing them interestingly. She was enjoying this more than they were, probably wishing she could go get some popcorn before they continued the show.

The Detective stilled her focus on her, but the woman seemed blessedly oblivious to their need of privacy. Instead, she began trying to secretly point at Lucifer with wide eyes.

“Right.” The Detective breathed out with an accompanying eye roll. “Ella, this is Lucifer.” She introduced him to ‘Ella’ with her eyes downcast, while Ella’s were completely wide and on him.

“Wait, _Lucifer_? New case perspective, Lucifer? The guy that helped you with Delilah’s murder, Lucifer? _That_ Lucifer?” Ella’s eyes were insistent on her, but the Detective’s fleeting glances were solely directed at him, and it briefly crossed Lucifer’s mind that the red taking over her cheeks was actually a lovely shade. “Nice pair of eyes, indeed. Well done, Decker.” Lucifer wasn’t sure if Ella had complimented him or mocked the Detective before turning around and walking away. 

“Pretty sure I said new.” The Detective commented mostly to herself, but Ella heard and waved it off without turning back to them, making a chuckle escape his lips.

“So.” Lucifer started when the Detective’s eyes finally met his, the soft red of her cheeks mostly gone by then, unfortunately. “You told your friends about me?” He teased, his trademark grin firmly in place.

“Oh, shut up.” The Detective scolded him without actual burn to her words, making his smile broaden even more. She stood up and started to walk away, momentarily disrupting Lucifer with the prospect of more boredom, but he forced himself to calm down when he noticed she simply went behind her desk, and he let out a relieved breath. The Detective picked up some case files before pocketing her phone and fishing for her car keys. “Let’s go.” She called him, taking the files with her and starting to walk away.

Lucifer was on his feet a second later, his long strides making it easier for him to catch up with her. “Where are we going exactly?” He asked, reaching out to help with half of her stack of files.

“I’m assuming it’s better to have this conversation in private, so I’m taking you home with me.” The Detective clarified, continuing with her steps before she realized what she’d said and came to a sudden halt, almost making Lucifer bump into her. “That came out wrong.” She tried to fix her previous statement, her eyes wide as she quickly turned around to face him, but Lucifer had already caught up to it.

He let out rich chuckles as his lips pulled into the cheekiest of smug grins. “Anytime you want, darling.” Lucifer purred, making the heat return to her cheeks. If he had his way, the soft red would never leave her.

The Detective turned away from him rolling her eyes, but he knew she was only trying to get her composure back. He had a new comment dancing at the very tip of his tongue when the Douche appeared out of nowhere and stopped them from reaching the stairs and leaving. 

The less competent detective acknowledged him with a distasteful look, and Lucifer made sure to return the sentiment. “For our dinner tonight.” The Douche started, with a grin mostly directed at Lucifer, before he turned to address the Detective and Lucifer felt his insides sinking. “How about that Thai place you like?”

“Ugh, yeah. Sure.” The Detective hesitantly agreed, her voice strained. 

Something ticked inside him, some unpleasant thing, knocking the air out of Lucifer’s lungs. He wished he could have looked away, or even walked away, but everything got even worse when Daniel locked eyes with him again, and Lucifer couldn’t let this crack tearing him apart show on his face.

“Ok, it’s a date. See you then.” Daniel shot him one last triumphal look before turning to leave with a new spring to his pace.

“Lucifer, it’s not-” The Detective turned around to explain, words rushing out of her, but Lucifer had already decided he was done feeling this void consuming him from the inside.

There was no need for them to discuss it further.

“There’s no need for you to explain yourself, Detective.” He forced himself to say the words, feeling bile in his mouth. The hurt in her eyes only made him feel worse, and Lucifer forced himself to take a step back from it all. He was the Lord of Hell, and the Lord of Hell didn’t concern himself with human matters such as those pesky emotions.

Maybe Mazikeen was right, after all. 

“You’re getting back with the Douche. I understand.” He’d tried to contain the strain to his voice, but he wasn’t sure he had been very successful. 

Lucifer kept his eyes on her, waiting for a reaction, but nothing happened. It only worsened the terrible feeling that had taken over the bubbly heat that usually warmed his stomach when she was around and that he’d come to cherish so much. And her magic reaching out to him only made his agony worse.

“Right.” He strangled out once it became clear he wouldn’t be getting a reaction out of her, so he took a step to the side and began climbing the stairs to leave without looking back to see if she was following him.

* * *

The car ride was tense to say the least. Lucifer didn’t know exactly why he’d reacted the way he had upon being informed about the Detective’s dinner plans with the Douche of all people. It was true that she intrigued him, and he’d hoped to at least have bed her by this point in time to get her out of his system, so to speak. But it wasn’t just that, was it?

And it wasn’t as if Lucifer didn’t know the Detective and the Douche were still somewhat together, even though he despised the guy and wanted far better for his Detective. But it wasn’t like he was the better option, per se.

But they were friends now, and Lucifer spent most of his time with her or thinking about her to the point it was getting ridiculous to think it was all about him wanting to bed her. Lucifer knew he felt something, and it wasn’t an unwelcome feeling, he just didn’t know exactly what it was.

And sometimes he thought she felt it as well, but the Detective had still chosen Daniel, and it… _bothered_… him, but Lucifer couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

He could see something in her, an uncomfortableness in her eyes that had been present since the Douche mentioned their dinner, as if it didn’t sit right with her as well. But the quietness that settled over their ride was too thick, and Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to ask her about it.

He was almost glad when they reached her residence in record time despite traffic. Glad that he could finally put a stop to his wondering thoughts and glad to end this awkward moment.

“So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?” The Detective broke the silence as they walked in. Lucifer closed the door after himself and turned to find her standing in the middle of the room.

He sighed and shifted in place, not knowing exactly how to proceed. He hadn’t thought his plan through, precisely. It only went as far as finding her to make sure she was alright.

“Does it have to do with your brother?”

Lucifer’s eyes snapped up almost immediately to find hers, startled. He’d been shocked into silence for a full second before he remembered he’d told her briefly about his brother and the purple bruise on his jaw.

“Err, yes.” He stumbled on his words, his hand unconsciously rising to cover the slashes he bared across his chest.

It was almost relieving when the Detective decided to walk towards her living room, as if it didn’t sit so strange between the two of them anymore. She took a seat on the couch and Lucifer proceeded to what he’d come to think as his armchair from all the times he’d come to her house for magic times. The thought was satisfying enough until it dawned on him that it probably could be the Douche’s armchair. Something didn’t sit right in his insides, and it loathed him to admit he could be jealous of a chair.

“Your murder investigations, the Carter banshee and the other one, did they lead anywhere?” Lucifer asked, trying to get his mind out of douches and armchairs, and into more pressing matters.

“No.” The Detective admitted with a sigh, kicking off her boots and sitting on crossed legs. “Are you finally ready to tell me what you figured out all those weeks ago?”

It was Lucifer’s turn to sigh this time. “I was hoping I was wrong, but it doesn’t seem to be the case.” He tangled a hand in his hair, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“What is it?” She asked with a tightness to her voice, and he could see the tension growing inside her as the seconds passed by.

“I’m mostly sure my brother Raziel is behind the murders.” Lucifer shared, eyes focused and waiting for a reaction out of her.

“Your brother? But isn’t he-”

“An Angel?” He completed once it was clear she couldn’t get the word out, and from the carefulness in her eyes, Lucifer knew he was right. “Being an Angel doesn’t automatically make you a goody-two-shoes. I mean, look at me.” Lucifer spread out his arms and the Detective responded with an eye roll.

And it was almost simple for a moment, normal, as if they hadn’t been estranged only minutes ago and it wasn’t murders they were discussing.

But the murders were real, and the threat his brother posed was real, and the Detective and the Douche were probably real, too. It was enough to put a stop to the small smile spreading on his lips.

“Most of them are boring, self-righteous, holier-than-thou, entitled, feathered pricks.” Lucifer mocked, feeling himself getting worked up. It was easy for him to get lost in his hatred, and if he didn’t put a stop to it, he could spend the entire evening there ranting about his siblings to her. But they didn’t have the entire evening. 

The Detective had dinner plans… 

Lucifer swallowed bile before making himself continue. “Being an Angel does stop you from killing humans, though, supernatural or not. It’s one of Dad’s rules that even I abide to.”

“But then, how can your brother be involved with the murders?” She asked, full on detective mode, and probably saving that particular brain melt for later.

“It didn’t make much sense at first.” Lucifer confessed, trying to put his thoughts in order to explain his thinking to her. “A few months ago, a Druid came to me asking for a favor. Said her friend had been killed and she didn’t think the police would be of much help, so she wanted me to see if I could find anything. It was around the time we met.”

“Wait, so it wasn’t just a coincidence that we met?” The Detective asked with a frown in her features.

“Not exactly. See, the druid whose death I was looking into was one Brendan Berthou. I believe it was this case that lead you to Silverwood and then to Eldorado. Both those establishments primarily serve a supernatural clientele.” Lucifer stopped for a second, giving the Detective some time to digest the information.

“I ended up closing Brendan’s investigation as inconclusive.” She shared after a few seconds in silence. When she locked her eyes with his, it became clear to him that not being able to solve that case still weighted heavy on her. “Did you find anything I couldn’t?”

“About his case, no. But it was brought to my attention that only a few weeks before Brendan’s murder, two other supernatural creatures had been killed as well. The first was a Kitsune and the other was a Djinn, and the police didn’t exactly find the culprits. They said the first death was an accident and the second was a hit and run. It was strange, but not exactly impossible to happen, so I didn’t pay it much attention. But then you told me about the Carter Banshee. It was too coincidental for it to be just isolated, random deaths, but it only made sense once I considered Delilah’s murder as well.”

“Delilah? I thought Jimmy Barnes had killed her for her album’s sales?” The Detective inquired, afraid of doubting the solidity of their investigation. “Wait, was Delilah supernatural, too?” 

“Indeed she was.” Lucifer shared, feeling the pain of her sudden death all over again. It still struck at the most random of times, but mostly when he was alone with the piano or when he heard one of the songs he’d helped her compose. And it loathed him to admit he’d been avoiding the alley beside Lux ever since the fatal shot rang in the air all those months ago. “She was a Siren, distant descendants from Mermaids. Her power resided in her vocal chords.” Lucifer clarified, trying to get his voice to sound as unaffected as possible and failing miserably.

“No wonder she was a singer, then.” The Detective commented with a sympathetic smile.

“It was a dangerous profession for her, actually. Her voice carried too much power, and it could be harmful to humans.” Lucifer explained, watching curiosity growing in her blue eyes. “She’d come to me every now and then so I could siphon some of it.”

“That- that was very nice of you.” She said with an open smile, and Lucifer found a shy one beginning to grow in his lips.

“Anyway.” He said and cleared his throat, trying not to stare too hard at the Detective. “Raziel can’t kill humans himself, but as the Archangel of the Occult he can manipulate dreams.”

“So, what? You think your brother manipulated Jimmy’s dreams so he would kill Delilah? What about the album’s sales money? I thought no one could lie to you with your mojo. And why would your brother even want those people dead?” The Detective shot him a million questions a mile a minute and it honestly made him dizzy.

Lucifer took a breath, decided on responding to the most pressing question first. “You’d be impressed with what Raziel’s dreams can make humans do, especially the weak willed ones. He could have made Jimmy think he was murdering Delilah for the money when in fact he was doing it because Raziel made him.” Lucifer explained, trying to be as clear about it as possible. “Raziel’s dreams work much in the same way as my ‘mojo’ works. I can get people to tell me their hidden desires, but I can’t manipulate them into telling me what I want. If Jimmy already wanted to kill Delilah, whatever little impulse that was, Raziel would only have to give him a push.”

The room went quiet, the Detective’s eyes progressively widening as she mulled over his explanation. “He can do that?” She asked in a mix of curiosity and childlike fascination that painted an overall charming picture, especially when combined with the red tinge in her cheeks.

His guess was that she was probably embarrassed for being excited about something that was that dangerous.

“Yes.” Lucifer answered simply. He noticed a creeping fear arising on her and he wasn’t sure on what he should do to comfort her, or why he felt the sudden need to, but it was there and he was lost. “I’m aware the logic seems strange, but once you put it all together… the tail of a kitsune, which wouldn’t be apparent to humans if it was missing; and the skin of a djinn, which wouldn’t be all that strange considering the supposed automobile accident; the magic of a druid; the vocal chords of a siren; the eyes of a banshee…”

Listing all of those deaths… it made a chill run down Lucifer’s spine and a nauseous wave settled over his stomach. Never had he thought one of his siblings capable of such things, not since it went so directly against Father’s commands, which were paramount to the Angels.

They’d always been too happy to just follow orders and be the perfect soldiers, to the point it made Lucifer nauseous to think none of his siblings had a will of their own or desires of their own, or passions that weren’t about pleasing Father.

His former Family was a massive army of alienated fighters. 

“Wait, are those… _ingredients_?” The Detective asked, both intrigued and disgusted by the idea.

“Yes.” Lucifer reluctantly confirmed, disgusted himself to talk about people as such. His affirmation made her turn green. “One of the few spells that require all of those things… it would strip Raziel of all limitations to his magic. He could become stronger than Father Himself.” He shared with dread in his tone, something that Lucifer rarely allowed himself to show.

“Are those… _things_ everything he needs?” The Detective asked, and the chill that ran through her as she forced herself to get the words out was perceptible, as was the sickness threatening to spill out of her lips.

“No. There are a few more things he needs, but I can’t be certain if he has them already of if he’s still obtaining them.” Lucifer confessed and he could see his fear reflected onto her as well.

In a city as large as Los Angeles, with a supernatural community as well hidden and diversified and spread around with several thousand members, it was hard to keep track. He couldn’t know all of them, and they couldn’t look into every homicide or accident that led to a fatality or morgue report in the entire city to find out the information they needed.

“Why did he pick a fight with you, then? Wouldn’t it be better if he worked without raising suspicion?” The Detective asked and he could see her logic there, which hadn’t crossed his mind yet. “I’m assuming that is what happened to your face.”

“I’m not sure.” Lucifer replied with a sigh. Her reasoning made him feel lost, but it wasn’t like his siblings to think too much about their plans. “Perhaps he thought I was getting too close to it and decided to take me back to Hell?” He half asked, half stated, and was met with an equally lost look in her eyes. “I’d certainly be no match to him without my wings and no magic.”

“Shouldn’t your siblings know about it? I mean, isn’t God supposed to be all knowing?” The Detective inquired and it got Lucifer thinking.

“Raziel was never one for team work, but someone must have noticed he has something going on.” He thought out loud for a moment, taking a second to ponder the thought. It wasn’t like his siblings to miss something like this, especially Uriel who was always up in someone’s business. “Dad isn’t of much help, never was. He may know everything, or at least make us think He knows everything, but He never moved a bloody finger to stop all this moronic nonsense that is going on.”

Their conversation, unsurprisingly, fell silent for a long while after that. It occurred to Lucifer that maybe he had divulged too much information for the Detective to handle once he noticed the constipated look in her features. He’d thought her brain was most definitely melting, but then she shook her head and locked her eyes with his, and the determination he found on them was rock solid, unwavering.

“What are we going to do about it?” She asked, and Lucifer wished she hadn’t. He’d really appreciate if he could simply abstain from the matter, it was something for his siblings to deal with, but he knew they wouldn’t, and the deep sense of justice so clear in the Detective’s gaze made him shut up. If the Detective had her way, she’d probably try to arrest his brother for the murders. “We have to do something.” She pressed when Lucifer didn’t answer, taking his silence as a denial.

“I’m not sure we can…” He said reluctantly, loathing to admit defeat. “We might be stronger now, but Raziel is still the Archangel of the Occult. And if he succeeds with the spell, I’m not sure anyone can stop him.”

The Detective let out a tired sigh, resting her elbows on her crossed legs and threading her hands through her hair. “So that’s it? This is the end of the line, game over?” She asked with a weight to her voice, and the resignation and the defeat in her eyes… Lucifer never wished to see that again.

“Well, I didn’t say that.” He said, trying to get those feelings out of her eyes. They had a chance after all, but it was slim. But false hope was better than no hope, or so Lucifer had heard from some humans. “Raziel will be weaker once he starts to perform the spell, so that would be the best moment to strike, but it’ll be a one-time only opportunity, so it’ll have to be perfect.”

“Too soon or too late and he’s too powerful for the two of us. _Awesome_.” She said with a puff, running a hand tiredly through her golden locks. Lucifer’s hands itched to do just that, but he forcefully shut that thought down. It wasn’t neither the time nor the place to think of such things, and the Detective wouldn’t even want him to do that.

For a second, that very thought, that she wouldn’t want him to touch her or be near her once the Douche was back, was more preoccupying and dire than the thought of Raziel becoming all powerful.

“There’s something else we could try.” Lucifer forced himself to say, if at least to get his mind out of such thoughts. The Detective’s eyes watched him expectantly as he tried to get his mind back in order. “There’s a Grimoire in your attic, deep, dark red with an infinity symbol on the cover.”

“Yeah, I remember that one.” She agreed after a couple seconds of thinking.

“There’s a spell there, a Devil’s Trap. It should work on Raziel as well.” Lucifer said. It was a supposition, that the spell might work on an angel simply because it was supposed to work on the Devil and he was still an angel at his core – even if only in species – but at least it was an educated guess on his part, and it was better than nothing.

“Do you want me to pick it up for you?” The Detective offered, missing his point, which Lucifer hadn’t explained properly so it wasn’t her fault.

“It’s not for me, Detective, it’s for you. I can’t cast the spell.” He explained, watching her features changing from surprise to shock to refusal.

“What- Why?” She stumbled on her words, her eyes wild and frantic on his.

“The infinity symbol on it, it means a blood lineage is required to cast the spells. The caster will need help from their ancestors to perform it and since I don’t have a blood lineage, it has to be you.”

“But I- I can’t do it, I-” The Detective stumbled on her words, her hands raising in a defensive position. “I don’t-”

“There’s no one else.” Lucifer said as softly as he could, cutting through her babbling. Resignation took over her features and it crossed his mind that maybe that wasn’t the best way to express the trust he had in her.

The Detective fell silent after that, her gaze lost at nowhere in particular, probably trying to convince herself that she could do it.

“You’ll need an Anchor for the spell.” Lucifer said, breaking her out of her focus with a confused expression. “It’s something you feel a strong emotional connection to, the stronger the better. It’ll serve to keep you anchored into this plane of existence, so even if those pesky ancestors try to pull you into the Veil, you’ll know your way back.”

“O-kay… I- I think I can do it.” The Detective said in an unsure voice, but it was the determination in her eyes that told him she could do it. “If you’ll help me.”

“Always.” Lucifer confirmed and it was visible the way she became just the tiniest bit more comfortable with the entire situation.

* * *

Chloe sighed for the millionth time that evening. The entirety of her interaction with Lucifer that day bothering her. 

It had been as far from great as possible, especially after their run in with Dan at the precinct and all of Lucifer’s weird quietness after that, but it had somewhat improved after arriving at her house. It had been almost normal between them once they began discussing his brother, and he’d even helped her with the new spell and all that anchor stuff. It had brought up memories of their first magic meetings, how he was always there to guide her through the spells.

She had been so absorbed by this familiarity she had with him that she’d completely forgotten about the dinner she was supposed to have with Dan, so content she was to just be there with Lucifer. But, unfortunately for her, Dan hadn’t forgotten.

And more than that, he showed up half an hour earlier than they’d agreed on. His sudden arrival had Chloe running to hide the grimoire from him, which made her miss Lucifer’s hasty exit entirely as he all but fled her house.

Now, Chloe found herself sitting at the couch with Dan, eating some completely unremarkable Thai food that he thought she liked – which she really didn’t – with a boring mood hanging over them. And for the small smile Dan had at the corner of his lips, he probably thought their dinner was going great.

Chloe tried to hide another sigh with a new mouthful of food, but it was getting hard to fake interest and to hide her boredom, especially since she had never had to do any of those things around Lucifer. Not even reading in silence with him had been boring.

And as much as Chloe wanted to, she couldn’t ignore that particular thought that had been crossing her mind the entire evening. That dinner was supposed to be about Dan and her trying to mend their crumbling, but trustworthy and dependable and safe, and boring, relationship, but still, all she could think about was another guy who was definitely none of those things relationship wise.

It was a thought laced with guilt, but Chloe couldn’t help wish she was somewhere else.

Dan sighed with a satisfied smile as he finished his food and placed his takeout container on the coffee table. Chloe did the same even though hers wasn’t anywhere near finished.

He shifted on his seat, gaze searching for hers, and she forced her mind out of its delusions. “Is everything ok with you?” He asked.

“Yeah, I-” Chloe tried to deflect, but eventually decided against it. She should just be honest, it was what had always lacked in their relationship after all. “Dan, I know I wanted to talk, but, um… my mind it’s just…” She cut off, not knowing exactly how she was supposed to say she was thinking about someone who definitely wasn’t him.

She sighed, threading a hand through her hair and resting back on the cushions. Chloe had never been this person and it was honestly making her sick with herself. But most of all, it was completely unfair to Dan, and even though he had his flaws, she didn’t have the right to do that to him.

“Somewhere else?” He offered and she agreed. “Yeah, mine, too. That case we had today really threw me off.” He shared and it didn’t really surprise Chloe that work was the first think that came to his mind. It had always been.

And it was baffling, sometimes, how obtuse he could be even after seeing Lucifer leave her house in a hurry after his arrival and how her mood had only deteriorated since then. Maybe he did notice those things, he just opted not to believe it.

“What did Lucifer want with you at the station, anyway? I thought you had dumped that weirdo a few weeks ago.” Dan commented with an obvious distaste for her friend, and it made Chloe uncomfortable. She wanted to be mad at him for calling Lucifer that, but she really didn’t have the mental capacity or the energy to do so.

“Something happened with his brother and he wanted to talk to me about it. And I didn’t _ ‘dump’_ him, we’re still friends. He just had some things going on.” She chose to say instead, feeling herself getting defensive. Dan also apparently noticed the change and decided not to push.

“He seemed weirder than usual when he was leaving here. Didn’t even retort when I mocked him.” He commented with a huff, completely missing the annoyance in her eyes, until something finally seemed to dawn on him and he turned to her with smoke coming out of his ears. “Wait, is that what’s on your mind right now? _Him_?”

“I know it’s bad. I’m _so_ sorry.” Chloe apologized, her voice small and laced with shame.

Dan let out a puff of rage, his face turning red and his eyes getting sharper. He seemed as ready as he’d ever be, about to start the fight she desperately wanted to avoid, start the same fight about Lucifer and Palmetto and all the other things he didn’t agree on in her life, that same fight they always had. But before he could say anything, his phone buzzed and thankfully he decided to check it.

The red drained from his face almost instantly and his entire posture changed.

“We should do this another time.” Dan’s voice comes out strangled, all his previous anger seemingly gone. And Chloe really wanted to be mad at him because that was obviously work and he was choosing it over her again, but this time, work was going to save her from a fight. And it was going to end this boredom.

And it would allow her to go see her friend.

And what a depressing thought it was. What had become of her – at this point non-existent – relationship to make her so eager to ditch Dan for some other guy?

He was gone not a second after that and it hurt Chloe to realize she was relieved, but it didn’t stop her from rushing out as well with only one destination in mind.

* * *

The elevator doors opened to a wrecked penthouse with Lucifer calmly playing at the center of it all. The glass wall that used to separate the library had turned into a pile of broken shards on the ground, some furniture was out of place, and the room was generally a mess.

The purple bruise on Lucifer’s jaw suddenly made a lot more sense. 

It took Chloe a second to recognize the melody coming from the piano, but in her defense, ‘Knocking on Heaven’s Door’ wasn’t exactly something you expected to find the Devil playing.

She approached him slowly, not wanting to scare him, but Lucifer suddenly stopped playing nonetheless. He turned to face her with a surprised look, which he quickly masked behind his playboy persona.

“Hi.” Chloe said softly, leaning on the piano top to admire his playing skills.

“Weren’t you supposed to be having dinner with Detective Douche?” Lucifer asked with obvious hurt in his tone, even though he tried to hide it.

“‘Detective Douche’ got called into work, I think, and it really wasn’t going all that great.” Chloe shared, expecting to see his usual smug grin in place, but he barely showed any emotion. “Honestly, I didn’t really want to be there.” She confessed and Lucifer was taken by surprise.

“Oh.” He responded simply, still looking baffled. “Do you have any questions about the spell, then?” He asked again, probably trying to find out what could have brought her there.

And it hurt, that he thought she’d only come to him when she wanted something.

“Not really.” Chloe said lightly, making him look even more confused. “I’m not here for the spell, I’m here for you.”

“Oh, really?” Lucifer purred, trying to put on a seductive tone, but she could see right through it. She could see it was only for show, that he was actually trying to mask his hurt. Or he simply thought she’d come to use him as a means to an end.

It resonated deep within her, this tendency he had to always assume she would reject him. Chloe promised to herself she’d try her best to remedy that.

“Yeah. Thought you could use a friend.” She said slowly, giving him time to let it sink in, and the sincere shock and adoration that suddenly began taking over his eyes was the most pure thing in the entire world. The small smile that threatened to form on his lips gave him a boyish look that almost made him look cute. “I certainly could.” Chloe said with a smile of her own.

It was all bliss for a second, until his features suddenly changed and Lucifer got all weird. Chloe eyed him for long seconds, not understanding what had changed, but he made room for her on the piano bench and she sat by his side, even though Lucifer’s eyes were insistent on the keys.

And if they were sitting maybe closer than the bench forced them to, none of them complained about it.

“Do you play?” Lucifer asked out of the blue, finally letting his eyes rise up to meet hers.

“No, I don’t.” Chloe answered, a bit taken aback by the sudden change in topic and in his mood, and Lucifer didn’t look even close to believing her answer.

“Come on, you must know something.” He pressed, with a new glow to his eyes. Chloe stared at their chocolate brown for longer than was appropriate, but the usual mischief that was always present in his gaze came back, and it made her confident enough to show him her – lack of – skills.

“Alright, well let me see. I had three years of lessons and this is all I remember.” She said, hoping she was sure on her finger placements. Chloe took a breath before letting her rusty memory take control.

The tunes to ‘Heart and Soul’ tentatively began filling the air, growing steadier as she became more confident in her memory and terrible skill. And it was really only the main part of the song that Chloe knew, but Lucifer had a smile all the same.

“Surely you must be joking.” He tried in a happy tone, but she merely shook her head, finally feeling as if she could stop staring at the keys and look into his eyes. His smile was a perfect match to hers. Lucifer let out a huff before stretching his hands, his fingers pressing the right notes to fill in the tune.

And it was strangely fitting that that was the song they played together, especially since he’d warmed his way into her heart and it felt as if she was a part of his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who called Dan? Karma’s a bitch
> 
> This one’s a really long chapter, I know, it just didn’t feel right breaking the events apart, especially since they’re succeeded. 
> 
> From now on, all chapters are gonna be huge. Let me know if it’s too much too read and I can space them some more. 
> 
> Thank you all for the love <3 I really appreciate it!


	14. The Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions os suicide - Chloe discusses a case with Lucifer, not at all graphic or with too much description. It’s partly canon, but beware. 
> 
> Also beware of the fluff. It’s strong in this one.

Lucifer carefully adjusted the lines of his suit one last time, smoothing all the invisible wrinkles in the fabric. He fixed his hair for the eleventh time that evening before checking his overall appearance in the mirror to make sure he looked his absolute best for his Detective.

It had been a couple of days since they last saw each other when she came by and they played the piano together. He’d been quite busy with his club and the Detective’s mother, Penelope, his absolutely favorite actress, had dropped by for an unexpected visit. But none of that was going to stop them from getting together that night.

Tonight was all about them.

Deciding he looked as good as possible, Lucifer proceeded to the elevator. He pressed the call button a few times too many and waited not-so-patiently for it to arrive, before a sudden thought crossed his mind and Lucifer hastily turned around. The grimoire he’d found earlier that day was still sitting at his desk in the library, just waiting to be used. It was a good one for the Detective to practice with, which was what had caught his eye in the first place, but maybe they should focus on the trapping spell, at least for now.

He was still trying to decide what to do about it when the elevator dinged announcing its arrival. Lucifer spun around, overtly happy to have more magic times with the Detective, but what the doors revealed wasn’t what he was expecting. 

“Detective?” Lucifer said, feeling embarrassed for getting caught being silly with that little spin he did, but mostly confused about the Detective’s presence, since he was on his way to go meet her. “This is unexpected.”

It briefly crossed his mind that they hadn’t communicated well, but when Lucifer allowed himself to take in the sight of her, it was apparent that something was wrong. Her hair was loose from its usual ponytail, golden curls messily framing her face, her dress was haphazardly put on, and she was leaning more heavily on the elevator than she probably intended to.

“You said the door’s always open, and I’m walking through it.” The Detective announced before wobbly walking inside, leaning on all surfaces she could find to keep steady. She made a beeline to his bar and poured two glasses of scotch. 

“Right, well, I was just on my way to meet you, but... I guess this works as well.” Lucifer trailed after her, both worried and weirded out by her sudden appearance. He’d never thought he’d see her drunk, not with her love for following the rules.

“Great. Then have a seat.” The Detective said around a hiccup, trying and failing spectacularly to point at the barstools. 

“Yes. Has something happened?” Lucifer asked, and he could see she was trying to focus on him, but in the end the liquor won out, a glass of scotch more inviting than his unfocused features. “I’m guessing by the looks of it with Dan, perhaps?” He asked carefully, feeling his nose wrinkle at simply mentioning the Douche.

The Detective scoffed into her drink before she downed it, reaching to take the glass she’d filled for him when he made no move to accept it. “Hmm, you mean _Detective Douche_?”

Lucifer chuckled, getting caught off guard by her comment. “Yes, well, of course that’s what _I_ mean, but the bigger question here is: why do _you_ mean that?” He asked, noticing the immediate shift in her mood.

“We weren’t even back together, and he ended it with me tonight. _With a text_.” She spat, both hands pressed onto the counter to keep straight. Lucifer felt his anger for the idiot growing tenfold, but in all honesty, he was also secretly relieved the Detective and the Douche were over for good and it made him feel terrible for some reason. “I mean, what, are we in high school?”

“Well, we’re certainly drinking like we are.” Lucifer said absentmindedly, still caught up in his strange feelings, but the Detective didn’t seem to notice. “Why don’t you have a seat over here and tell me about it, hmm?” He offered before reaching out to support her as he walked them to the couch. She sat closer than she normally would have, leaning almost fully on his side, but it wasn’t like Lucifer to complain.

“I just feel like an idiot. I can’t believe that I would let myself care for him again. I mean, why? So I get hurt?” The Detective half asked, have stated, with a lost look in her eyes that seemed so foreign to him that it made Lucifer feel lost.

“Um, no, because you’re a kind person who puts the needs of others before your own.” He said, looking deeply into her eyes to will her to understand, even though he didn’t half understand it himself.

Lucifer couldn’t even fathom what had led him to say that, he only knew it was the truth. He knew he’d said it partially because the Detective probably wouldn’t remember it in the morning, despite some part of him desperately wished she would. But there was also a part of him that admired her fire, and he wished she knew what she meant to him, even if he didn’t know what that was most of the time.

“It’s a horrible irony that my Father invented.” Lucifer added as an afterthought, seeking some of his balance back after the unexpected confession, but one look at her and he could see that that bit of information had troubled her inebriated mind more than it had reassured her.

The Detective looked fazed for a full minute before fully compartmentalizing that knowledge for a future brain meltdown. “But you don’t do that. You just take what you want.” She said with wonder in her voice, giving him whiplash from the change in subject. 

“Since the beginning of time.” Lucifer didn’t exactly understand where her train of thought was taking them, but her read of his behavior, although true, made him feel strangely uncomfortable.

“That’s nice.” He heard her whisper with wonder in her voice before she leaned in close to him and his heart skipped a beat.

Lucifer froze for a full second, not believing this was actually happening to him. The Detective kept leaning in closer and closer, and it was what he wanted the most for so long now, it was what had kept him awake at night wondering, his mind stuck dreaming with what if’s, what had caused all this myriad of feelings that had spurred inside him, and yet, for some reason... Lucifer couldn’t just lean in and let himself be kissed by his Detective.

And so he leaned back instead, denying himself his desires for the first time in his long life. It didn’t stop her, though, and the Detective kept leaning in until she was mostly on top of him. With every inch she leaned forward, it got harder and harder to resist, especially with the warmth and the feel of her entire body on his, but Lucifer knew it would be wrong of him to give in. 

He placed his index finger on her lips to stop her, and it seemed to snap her mind back into the moment and out of her inebriated haze.

“What’s happening?” The Detective asked, her voice sounding off and much unlike herself. Lucifer removed his finger from her lips, but she made no move to get off of him, and her close proximity was causing his heartrate to spike up.

“It would seem that I’m saying no.” He said slowly, not understanding the words leaving his own mouth. Her features morphed into shock, which Lucifer was sure was stamped on his face as well, and she leaned back, completely away from him.

He missed her warmth almost immediately when she moved away, but it didn’t matter. The ghost of her body would forever be tattooed into his skin.

“But you’ve been trying to get me into bed since day one. Why are you saying no?” She all but whined, her mind still caught up on his refusal, and Lucifer knew she’d be glad she wouldn’t remember this come morning. He knew she’d dread it, but he found her confusion actually made her look endearing.

“Well, frankly, my dear, I’m as baffled as you are. I mean, usually I’d leap at the chance to fulfill my carnal desire, but... for some reason I can’t.”

“What am I doing here?” The Detective said mostly to herself, her mind totally past his rejection by that point and onto a new questioning. She placed her elbows on her knees and rested her head on her hands, looking every bit defeated. “Why am I here, _drunk_, throwing myself at you? This is so sad.” 

“Well, it happens to the best, I promise.” Lucifer lured, trying to lighten up her foul mood but it seemed to have fallen into deaf ears. He tried to scoot closer to her on the couch, extending his arm over the backrest, but it got no response out of her.

“But not to me.” She said, raising her eyes to meet his for only a second before dropping them again. “I don’t do this. This is something... my mom would do.”

Lucifer let out a long sigh. He wanted to say something or do something because it was obvious even to him that her mother’s sudden visit and the whole ordeal with Daniel had both ruined her mood. He just didn’t know what to do.

“And now with Paolucci’s suicide...” The Detective said absentmindedly, leaning back on the couch and hiding her face in her hands. “God, my life’s such a mess right now.”

Lucifer wanted to scold her for mentioning his Father, especially at that moment, but his mind got caught up onto the new Paolucci development and refused to think about anything else. It was paramount to him to understand what she had meant, especially considering the now late detective was their main suspect on the Palmetto shooting, but his chances of getting coherent answers from the Detective at the moment were closer to nothing than he’d like.

“Come here.” Lucifer tried instead, hoping she wouldn’t flinch away from his touch.

She melted into him instead, willingly scouting closer to him. Her arm came to wrap around his waist and she laid her head on his chest before snuggling into his side to make herself comfortable. It made him feel strangely happy, like the Detective trusted him enough to find comfort in him. Lucifer didn’t think anyone else had felt that towards him or let him open up enough for that.

They’d come a long way, the Detective and the Devil. That realization made his insides melt into a happy, fluttering goo, much like she had to his side.

“We don’t all turn into our parents, Detective. I mean look at me.” He said with a self-deprecating laugh, his hand reassuringly running up and down her forearm. Lucifer had figured her issue with her mother was probably easiest one for him to understand, having had too many issues with his own Mother when they lived in the Silver City, but once he began talking, the words strangely disappeared from his mind. He was still trying to come up with something to say when he heard the snore and panicked. 

“Oh, God.”

* * *

The sun was already rising over the city, its rays shining through the black drapes of his bedroom, when the Detective stirred awake from her deep slumber. She was slow to rise though, undoubtedly trying to work around the inevitable headache after all the alcohol she had consumed the night before. At least that was what Lucifer guessed as he watched her from his place in the corner armchair.

The first thing her eyes landed on was her bra hanging on the lamp on the bedside table, and he had to hold in the chuckles as he replayed the events of the past night in his mind.

“Oh, no. No, _no_.” The Detective sighed mortified, her eyes trailing through all her discarded clothing around his penthouse. “Oh, God. Oh, God, what have I done?” She whispered to herself as she lifted the sheets to find herself not wearing clothes.

It was a thought Lucifer hadn’t been able to get out of his mind all night long. He’d done his best to avoid looking at her while she stripped on her way to his bed while trying to make sure she was alright. He hadn’t watched her, it wasn’t right when she wasn’t there to consent, but he hadn’t been able to stop the few glances of her he’d seen.

Lucifer cleared his throat, forcing that damn thought out of his mind once and for all, and attracting her wide eyes to his. “Don’t worry, my Father’s the forgiving sort.” He reassured her in a half playful tone as he adjusted the robe covering his own mostly naked form and the silk shorts he had on. “Well, except when it comes to me.” He let out the comment with a dark chuckle, feeling the joke punch him in the stomach even as he tried to pretend he didn’t care about it. “Triple expresso or hair of the dog?” He asked her, hand pointing to the two beverage options he had at the table next to the armchair he was currently occupying, in a failed attempt to get his mind out of his Father and his inevitable Fall.

“No.” The Detective hurried a reply with a groan, sitting up in bed and gathering all the sheets around herself. 

“Oh, right. _Both_.” Lucifer said amusingly before pouring the alcohol into the expresso and stirring it.

“Please tell me, we didn’t...” She trailed off her question, gesturing between the two of them. By the look she offered him, Lucifer wasn’t so sure she wanted to know the answer, but he decided to tease her about it nonetheless, despite him being a tad bit hurt that she seemed so repulsed by the idea of sleeping with him.

It briefly crossed his mind that maybe it were the circumstances that repulsed her, which weren’t ideal for him either, but maybe it was just wishful thinking in his part.

“_Did we ever! _” Lucifer said in an overtly honeyed tone and with wide eyes, enjoying the sudden panic that took over her features, and wishing his previous... _insecurity_ would vanish away. “And I’m pretty sure we made Rosemary’s baby. Oh, _Detective_, it was _extraordinary_.” He shared as he got up from his armchair and proceeded to kneel on the bed next to where she was still occupying it. “The heat, the gymnastics. I mean, you had moves that made even the Devil blush.” Lucifer teased as he watched her scurry out of the bed in a flurry of sheets. 

How he wished he could be talking about a real memory, not about the dream that haunted his mind.

“Oh, no, this is _bad_.” She said, tightening the sheets around herself. “Whatever happened last night, don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

“What, that we didn’t do the nasty?” Lucifer asked back simply, drinking his spiked coffee as he watched her gather her clothes from the floor, before freezing as his words settled in.

“We didn’t?” The Detective asked in disbelief, and he wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed by that.

“Nope.” He replied, popping the ‘p’, still not exactly sure on how to feel about her reaction. Maybe he should really find himself a therapist, these feelings of his were confusing, especially when she was around. “I turned you down cold.”

“You, the guy who’s been trying to get me into the sack since day one had a chance to sleep with me, and you didn’t...” She enunciated slowly, trying to comprehend the words leaving her own mouth.

“Well, you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind to consent, were you?” He added, suddenly uncomfortable by the surprise, and the small trace of pride, he found in her features.

“Then, why- _why am I naked? _” The Detective asked in a high pitched tone, self-consciously tightening the sheets around herself.

“What, you mean you don’t remember the part where you passed out, woke up again, shouted at me, _ ‘it’s too hot in this five-star Hellhole’_, I believe it was, then tore your clothes off and proceeded to hog the bed?” Lucifer asked with a terrible impression of her accent while she tried to get dressed with as much dignity as possible.

“I do that. Sometimes. When I’m upset.” She spat back, kicking the sheets after successfully putting on her dress. He followed the black silk in its way to the floor, his eyes lingering on her exposed legs for longer than was appropriate. “And you’d be upset, too, if your ex dumped you by text.” The Detective complemented, blessedly oblivious to his staring.

“No, I’d be relieved if Dan dumped me.” Lucifer mocked, unable to miss the opportunity, as he got up from the bed and leaned casually on the threshold separating his bedroom from the main area. “Even still, it’s very out of character to see you so unhinged. And out of character for me, too. The whole ‘not wanting to have sex with you’ thing. Which, just to be clear, I very much so want to. Just maybe when you’re sober enough to remember it.”

The Detective looked stunned for a full minute before shaking her head and snapping back to the moment. 

It hurt him, that she thought he’d take advantage of her in a moment like that. It made an unpleasantness settle in his chest where once there was only a fluttering flame that made him strangely happy. Lucifer shook his head to send those thoughts away.

Maybe he was just reading too much into the situation.

“Okay, last night was a fluke. For both of us. Never happened, leave it at that.”

“Sorry, I don’t think I can.” Lucifer said smugly, making the Detective roll her eyes. “Right, there’s one thing that has been playing around in my mind the entire night, though. You mentioned something about coma boy’s partner and suicide?”

The Detective let out a long sigh before she let her eyes drop down, a tired stance taking over her.

“Right. Yeah, ugh... Paolucci.” She said, sounding a bit off as she slowly ran a hand through her hair. And it was almost palpable the way her mood soured. “I tracked him last night to the Paddock because I wanted to press him into maybe slipping some information about the Palmetto shooting, but I found his body there, instead. Gunshot through the mouth, even found a suicide note.” She explained with a dark gloom looming over her refusing to let her eyes meet his.

“And all this detecting, you did it before the Douche broke up with you?” Lucifer commented offhandedly, hoping to get the sourness out of her, even if for just a moment.

“Ugh, can you please forget that?” She groaned and it got a smirk to his face.

“Right, back to the timely demise of our main, _and only_, suspect.” He pointed out, noticing the shift in her demeanor as well. “You think it was staged, don’t you?” Lucifer asked, now strangely excited.

“I don’t know.” The Detective sighed, running a hand through her face. “Maybe I’m just reading too much into it, maybe I’m seeing things because I want to be right...” She trailed off, leaning heavily on his piano, looking very much like the picture of defeat.

“Do you actually believe that?” Lucifer asked with dread, trying to conceal his worry in a cold tone.

The hesitancy that took residence in her eyes all of a sudden made him sure she didn’t believe a word that had just left her mouth, even if she was trying to convince herself of the opposite.

“It’s just- It feels too nicely wrapped, you know?” The Detective half affirmed, half pleaded, hesitant eyes bored deeply in his. “The note said Paolucci couldn’t live with the guilt of shooting Malcolm, especially after he woke up from the coma. It’s just...” She trailed off, her eyes falling to the ground in a show of doubt.

“That perfectly solves our case, doesn’t it? Too perfectly, even.” Lucifer commented, attracting her eyes back to his and confirming her suspicions.

“You believe me?” She asked in a whisper, almost afraid of hearing his answer. There was a vulnerability in her blue eyes, a sense of loss that spoke deeply to his soul.

“Always.” He agreed almost immediately. It was painfully evident, even for him that usually didn’t notice such things, how this case and all officers involved had made her doubt herself, but Lucifer would always believe in her. “Where does that leave Mr. Comatose?”

“I-” The Detective let out a tired sigh, looking exhausted despite having woken up only minutes ago. Lucifer felt that same tiredness seeping into his bones. All this thinking was leaving his mind burned out, despite the sun having risen just a couple hours ago. “I still think he’s involved somehow. He knew I was still investigating and someone could have spilled to him about the 999 key we found. Malcolm could have figured out we’d eventually look into Paolucci.”

Her words instantly reminded Lucifer of how the Douche had been brought into the investigation while he was... _not there_. It reminded him of how the less competent detective knew about the key they’d found at Palmetto and was probably on par with every action the Detective took since the beginning. One look at her, though, confirmed his thoughts that it wasn’t the best moment to voice this idea out loud. The Detective and the Douche may be over, but Lucifer didn’t think she’d turn on him overnight.

It also made him remember vividly how it felt when she’d told him the Douche was a part of _their_ investigation, and that wasn’t something Lucifer ever wanted to feel again.

“So Malcolm took him out, tied all the loose ends. It does seem too nicely done.” He pointed out, taking a second to run all the facts through his mind one more time. It didn’t matter how many times or how many ways Lucifer approached this case, it always left him with more doubts than answers. “Wait, does that make Paolucci innocent?”

“I don’t know... His death just doesn’t seem right, especially now.” The Detective shared and he agreed. “I _know_ Malcolm’s dirty, and as his partner, Paolucci _had_ to know that, too, right? Maybe Malcolm knows who shot him and is trying to cover it up?”

“Why would he cover up his own attempted murder?” Lucifer pointed out, noticing the defeat gradually taking over the Detective with all those questions and doubts, and the general lack of answers.

“But, if Malcolm really is dirty, then maybe Paolucci knew he was getting payed by criminals and now that he has woken up, he was going to turn Malcolm in.”

“So Malcolm killed his partner to avoid being arrested.” He finished her thought, watching as the Detective made a face, having a hard time to believe her own idea. “I know I have never met this Paolucci guy, but I’m not sure I’m convinced of his innocence.” 

Both grew silent after that, with thousands of possible motives or explanations running through Lucifer’s mind. “All this detecting is making me confused, especially at this awfully early hour.” Lucifer whined, taking a sip of his spiked coffee in the hopes of getting back the energy he’d just spent burning his neurons.

“Right.” The Detective said simply before gathering her things and turning around to make a beeline for the elevator.

“Wait, where- where are you going?” Lucifer asked after cleaning his throat, being caught by surprise by her action. He’d hoped she would at least stay for breakfast, so he could woo her with his culinary skills and make it harder for her to say no to the request he had for her.

“To work.” She replied matter-of-factly, giving him that smile she always had when it seemed he couldn’t understand the simple things. “It’s what normal people do at this ‘awfully early hour’.” She continued with a terrible impression of his accent, much like his impression of hers had been. Lucifer was still dumbfounded by that and it almost made him miss the Detective turning around to leave again.

“Wait!” He yelped, making her turn back around with a questioning tone. He took a hasty step forward, dropping some coffee from the cup into his hand. It was still scalding and it made him hiss. “Wait. What are yo- ...Are you go-” Lucifer stumbled over his words, a nervous wave suddenly starting to settle in him.

He took in a deep breath to still his thundering heartbeats. Watching the Detective look at him funny made him even nervous. “Doyouhavesomethingplannedfortonight?” The words rushed out of his lips, almost too quick to be unintelligible. 

“Uh, not really. Do you want to go over the case later tonight?” She asked back in an open tone, completely missing the underlying subtlety of his question.

“Not at the moment, no.” Lucifer replied absentmindedly, almost on automatic, his mind still fully focused on trying to calm down his increasingly rapid-beating heart.

“Oh, I guess we could practice the trapping spell some more, then. Have you heard anything from your brother lately?” The Detective asked with a serious face, and it made Lucifer convinced she was messing with him because there was no way she could be this deliberately obtuse.

“What, no, that’s not-” He let out a long sigh, feeling his words stuck inside his throat for the first time in millennia. 

Lucifer was usually impressively talented with words, hell, he could talk someone into doing almost anything, but for some reason... this time he felt stuck. He could guess it was because it was the Detective or maybe because of what their relationship meant for him, but in the end it was all too complex for his limited understanding of human emotions. 

“There’s something I’d like to show you.” He finally got out, and it was visible how the Detective missed his point yet again. It made Lucifer wonder if he wasn’t being as clear as he thought he was with his wording or if she was purposefully avoiding the subject so she wouldn’t have to say ‘no’ to his face.

“I guess I can stay for a few more minutes. What is it?”

“It’s- not here.” Lucifer said around a mouthful of weirdness, feeling the words escaping him, and by the look she shot him, the Detective noticed his strange behavior.

“Then, where is it?” She asked, her tone laced with suspicion.

“Out.” Lucifer had to admit, it wasn’t one of his best replies, not by far, and it actually seemed to worsen her reservations. “I mean, it’s somewhere else. _Outside_. Look-” He tried again, not understanding why he sounded like a bloody sod who couldn’t speak properly around women, but the Detective somehow managed to interrupt him yet again.

“Wait... Are you asking me out?” She asked in a cryptic tone that made Lucifer doubt any answer he could give her would be the right one.

“What, no!” He was quick to deny, but whatever expression her features had turned into was much too complex for him to understand. “Well, kind of.” Lucifer backtracked, not sure himself if he was actually asking her out or not. It was confusing, since it was neither the appropriate moment to do so after her much too recent breakup with the Douche, and because she was probably going to reject it.

Reject _him_.

They always do.

Lucifer was about to try to fix it, but the Detective once again decided to speak at the same time as he did. The likelihood of her rejection of him became even more real as the seconds passed by, and it sent Lucifer into a full blown panic. He couldn’t stand the possibility of _her_, his _friend_... not when everyone else had done that to him.

In a split second, he pressed his finger to her lips the same way he had the night before, this time in an attempt to preserve the friendship he’d acquired and not to stop her from kissing him. 

In all entirety, Lucifer was still on the fence about that one. He was proud of himself for resisting, and he knew it would be terribly wrong of him to take advantage of the situation, but when memories of the feeling of her body on his flooded his mind...

It made him wish he could feel that again.

“Let me finish, will you?” Lucifer half asked, half demanded, tired of being interrupted and misunderstood, and not able to live with the possibility of her denial of him hanging over his head. “There’s something I’d like to show you and we have to drive to get there. And it has to be at night. _So_, if you don’t have anything planned for tonight, I’ll pick you up at sunset.”

The all-encompassing quietness that settled over them was the longest moment of silence his anxiety had ever encountered, and it starred the Detective looking like a deer caught in headlights. She was probably stunned by his attitude, or perhaps trying to come up with a way to turn him down, building the perfect storm for his overworking mind to overthink this whole interaction.

“O-kay.” She agreed somewhat weirdly, her mind still trying to catch up. “What is it?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

“I don’t like surprises.” The Detective said, unsurprisingly. He’d heard her repeat that multiple times now, but with this one... he’d like to witness the look in her face when she saw it. 

“I’m well aware, but I’m still not telling you.” Lucifer denied, and he could see it troubled her, which troubled him in return, thinking she might call this off, but he was adamant in wanting to surprise her. “Just- trust me on this one, will you?” He asked, feeling strangely heartfelt, and it took her a second, but the Detective nodded in agreement. “And wear something warm.” Lucifer added as an afterthought.

“Okay.” She said with finality before turning around to leave, and this time Lucifer didn’t think he could get her to stay for longer. So when she turned around with a question at the tip of her tongue, Lucifer felt his heart flutter inside his chest. “Is it a date?”

He felt his heart skipping a beat, his whole body failing to respond to his mind for a full second. “If that’s how you want to call it, then sure.” Lucifer said enigmatically once words finally returned to him, neither confirming nor denying her question. He decided to leave the labeling to her since Lucifer himself didn’t know how he felt about this whole ordeal. It was safer that way.

All the Detective offered back was a small nod that made him feel even stranger, especially since it was her turn to neither confirm nor deny his doubt.

“I guess I’ll see you at sunset, then.” She said briefly before walking to the elevator.

“Right.” Lucifer agreed just as she walked inside the cart. “You snore by the way. Like an Albanian field wench.” He added mockingly, in a last attempt to bring some normalcy back into their banter.

It worked, and Lucifer was briefly rewarded with a smile from her just as the elevator doors closed and carried her away. But no matter, he’d see her again tonight.

* * *

“Are you sure you know where you’re going? Because it doesn’t look like you do.” The Detective whined for the millionth time that evening as Lucifer sped the corvette through the empty lanes of the highway.

He fixed her with a pointed stare, but his eyes quickly returned to the road ahead of him before she could scold him again for not paying attention while driving. In his defense traffic had been pretty light, especially since they hit the freeway, and she had been quite distracting herself just sitting there and looking pretty.

And if he’d been distracted by the stars growing and growing in numbers the farther from LA they got, who could blame him? They were his favorite thing after all.

“I’m just saying, you’re going towards the desert. There’s _nothing_ there.” The Detective continued, vaguely gesturing to the wasteland ahead of them.

“Detective!” Lucifer exclaimed in frustration. He looked away quickly, not wanting her to figure out that that was precisely the reason why they were going that direction, because he was sure it showed in his eyes somehow and the Detective had gotten quite good at reading them. 

She grew quiet after that, her arms staying firmly crossed around herself. It made Lucifer feel weird. He wanted her to enjoy this little ‘date’ of theirs as _she_ had called it – _not_ him – but he also wanted to witness the look in her face once she saw it. So, he was kind of on the fence there. 

In the end, Lucifer trusted her to tell him if she felt uncomfortable, so he decided against ruining the surprise.

“You know that’s not the speed limit, right?” The Detective broke the quietness out of the blue after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“Detective, I _swear_ to my Father, I’m going to strangle you.” 

“Sorry.” She apologized, though Lucifer knew she wasn’t sorry at all, not even a tiny bit.

A few more minutes passed by as they ventured deeper and deeper into the desert, and the anxiety slowly growing in her was making him crazy in return, especially since it seemed the Detective was struggling to keep still. It made him wonder if this had been truly a good idea.

“Look, can’t you just-” She tried one more time, but Lucifer cut her off before she could call it quits when they were so close.

“We’re here!” He announced, startling her, before slowly taking his car off the road and into the hardened sand. Lucifer made sure he parked the corvette just a few meters into the sand, as far away from the road so that passing vehicles couldn’t disturb them but while also still being on the hard, desert soil, where his car wouldn’t be stuck when they left.

“Lucifer. Why are we in the middle of the desert?” The Detective’s question came immediately after he killed the engine and left the lights on, and it troubled him to see her tone had trembled with dread.

“Just...” He sighed and opened the door to get out. This wasn’t turning out how he wanted it to be. “Come on.” He called and walked to the front of the car, not looking back to check if she was following.

She did follow after him a few moments later, too quietly, still weary and keeping her distance, her arms firmly crossed around herself. All the defensive untrusty stance she had made Lucifer feel terrible, but he could understand the situation didn’t seem the most trustworthy, with him not telling her anything and bringing her to the middle of nowhere in the dark. 

“I want to show you something, and I couldn’t have done it in the city with all the lights and the pollution there. I give you my word this is not me trying anything untoward. I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He clarified with open honesty, raising his hands in a placating gesture and hoping profusely that she believed him. It made him feel strangely vulnerable, but her apprehension seemed to be fading away little by little.

“What is it that you want to show me?” The Detective asked tentatively after a few seconds ticked by, slowly stepping closer to him.

Lucifer simply nodded at the sky, and the wonder that took over her features the moment she rose her eyes was the single most beautiful thing in the entirety of the Universe. More beautiful than his own stars, even.

He forced himself to look up as well, after spending too long moments taking in the Detective, longer than he should have. 

The peace that dawned on him was instantaneous, an eerily kind of peace that only the stars could spur in him. It was pride and accomplishment, a beauty unlike anything he’d ever seen, a light that was his own.

“Now I get the location.” The Detective said with a soft tone, fully relaxing by his side. It got Lucifer out of his thoughts of wonder and he let out a huff.

He brought his eyes from the beauty in the sky to the beauty by his side and he saw her tighten her arms around herself as a wind current swept by them. “I thought I told you to dress warm.” Lucifer commented while the Detective tried in vain to keep the heat trapped within her clothes.

The look she directed at him, with fire burning so bright in her blue eyes, made him lose his focus for a second. “Well, you didn’t tell me we were coming to a fucking desert, did you?”

“Touché.” Lucifer relented after a moment and proceeded to take off his jacket. A particular chilly blow of wind swept by them that moment, and it made a shiver run through him for an instant, but it wasn’t enough to put out the hellfire Lucifer carried inside himself. “Here.” He offered the Detective his jacket, only for her to immediately raise her hands and refuse it.

“No, I- I can’t. You’re going to be cold.”

“I assure you I won’t.” Lucifer offered once more and she accepted it this time. It made him feel extremely pleased for some reason, watching her put on his jacket. He usually didn’t take well with wearing other people’s clothes, and while he offered his to people, he didn’t expect them back.

Lucifer guessed it was the size difference that made his eyes linger on his Detective, or maybe because she was wearing something that was his. It was a sign of trust, he figured...

Or maybe he was just reading too much into a bloody jacket. 

He leaned back on the hood of the corvette and the Detective did the same, pressing her side to his. It made his heart skip all the beats.

“So, I’m guessing looking at the stars isn’t the only reason you brought me here.” She said, bumping her shoulder into his.

“It isn’t.” Lucifer agreed, but didn’t say anything else for a second. He wasn’t sure of what to do next. Of course he knew what he wanted to do, he just wasn’t sure on how to go about doing it. For a second, his shoes seemed far more interesting than the stars.

“What is it?” The Detective asked. Lucifer wasn’t certain is she was referring to what he wanted to show her or what feeling he was experiencing that was confusing him, but considering this was the Detective, and by the worrying look in her eyes, the latter was the most likely.

Lucifer raised his hand and bore his eyes into his palm, both excited and dreading what was to happen next. “It’s been ages since I last did this.” He raised his eyes to hers, completely aware he wasn’t concealing his nervousness at all.

“I didn’t peg you for someone with performance anxiety.” She remarked lightly, letting her eyebrows rise suggestively as she fixed him with a smirk.

Lucifer let out an amused huff, not expecting the innuendo from her. He got a smirk in return, feeling the pressure exerted on him lessen just that tiny bit enough to make it bearable.

“Oh, you can peg me anytime you want, darling.” Lucifer responded in kind to her joke, loving the blush that rose up her cheeks. It always made her look stunning.

Their familiar banter was enough to ground him back to himself for a moment, but soon enough his anxiety rose back up again. He’d expected the nervousness, the anxiety, the pressure.

One thing he hadn’t been expecting, though, was for the Detective to raise her own hand and press it beneath his. Lucifer stared at their hands, hers so small compared to his, calloused where his were as soft as he could get them. When he finally found it in himself to raise his eyes to hers, his filled with surprise and hers with something he couldn’t name, the weight of the moment dawned on him.

He felt the intensity of her stare, of the emotion in her eyes, and it was all too much. Too much of something he didn’t understand and it made him nervous. So, he dropped his eyes back to his hand, to something else that made him nervous.

It had been so long ago... way too long ago, but this wasn’t something Lucifer could ever forget. It was still a part of his being, cemented deep within him.

So it was easy enough to begin. Lucifer focused in his light, however dimmer it had become, in bringing it forth, in materializing above his palm, and it rushed out of his being, out of his soul, all at once, making him weak in his knees. 

The difficult part laid in taming all that raw energy and stopping it from dissipating into the air. The Detective’s hand reflexively twitching beneath his almost made him lose his concentration, but only a few seconds later Lucifer had a tiny star floating above his palm. It made her gasp, and a proud smile began taking over him.

“Is that...?” She asked, trying to focus her surprised gaze in his, but the pull from the little ball of light Lucifer had created was stronger.

He looked up at the infinitude of darkness that spread above them, all the stars he’d created to light the Universe. Lucifer had done this so many times, had shared his light so many times so no one would have to live in the dark. There were millions of millions of stars in the sky, some he’d created, some nature had taken over, but out of all of them, this... tiny, fragile, unremarkable star... it was one of the most special ones to him, right next to the Sun.

“I did create them all.” Lucifer said, playing with the star on his palm. It made him yearn for the simpler times, where all his concerns were creating stars and pulling pranks in his siblings. Where lighting the dark seemed like his purpose, where he was proud of the things he did.

Lucifer sighed with a new heaviness in his chest bringing him down. 

“Wow... How is it possible?” The Detective asked once she finally managed to look away from the tiny star. The ethereal light he’d created illuminated her curious features, making the golden of her hair shine and the blue of her eyes bluer than Lucifer ever thought possible. It made her look like... an _angel_. “Doesn’t it... I don’t know, defy physics?” She asked, removing her hand from beneath his and letting it skirt too close to the star for Lucifer’s worry.

“You’re standing next to the literal Devil, darling. Do you really think the laws of physics apply here?”

She raised her eyebrows in compliance. The Detective inquired him about his stars some more after that, how it felt, how he did it, how many he had made, and Lucifer took the time to tell her about it, but once her questions began fleeting from the stars and into his time living in Heaven, he not so casually avoided them and changed the subject. 

They had been at it for quite some time, until he felt the star’s urge to be set free, and so he complied. Lucifer gave it a little push, and his tiny freckle of light ascended through the night sky on its way to join the others and light the dark.

The Detective’s features showed only awe as they watched it climb the skies, and it made Lucifer feel extremely proud of himself, a pride he hadn’t felt in a long time. She had questioned him about astronomers being confused the next day, but Lucifer really didn’t care.

“What else can you do?” She asked with barely hid excitement once their stars’ light was out of their sight, consumed by the night.

Lucifer smirked at her and let his eyes rise back to the sky.

As the night went on, he found himself using more and more of his magic, glad that the wings he despised were there to power him. But most of all, delighted on how the Detective reacted. He’d made the stars shoot in the sky for about three times now, and had even tried to teach her – even if she seemed convinced she wouldn’t be able to do it – but the most beautiful thing he’d witnessed the entire night had been her. 

Once the winds began growing sporadically colder and more frequent, Lucifer let his wings unfurl, and their resemblance to the night sky was impossible to deny so up close to the real thing. He slowly climbed on top of the hood, careful not to dent the painting with his shoes, and rested back on the windshield, spreading his wings wide urging the Detective to do the same.

He carefully wrapped his wings around them, and the constant pressure of her touch had rendered his mind light.

“Those starts there, forming a W. Can you see them?” Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He raised a finger to point to the stars in question, briefly spearing a look to the Detective to find her searching the skies with concentration. “That’s Cassiopeia. That one? Virgo. One of its stars is called Spica. It burns a hundred times brighter than the sun.” 

Lucifer told her about all the stars in the sky, using the names humans had given them. The wonder in his Detective’s eyes... it was unlike anything he’d ever seen, more beautiful than the constellations in the sky themselves.

He told her stories about creating them, little facts, and even some of the names he’d chosen for his creations, names he hadn’t repeated in a long time. It was the most comforted and light and relaxed and happy he’d been in months.

Eventually, they fell into a comfortable silence, content to simply watch the stars. Lucifer didn’t know who reached for it first, but the hand that had been comfortingly beneath his at the beginning of the night was now softly holding his, their fingers intertwined.

Nothing in the entire universe could be as good as this, could make him feel as good as that moment did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No chapter yesterday, sorry. I’m trying this thing of posting every other day. Still don’t know how i feel about it (had kinda gotten used to the schedule :p) Anyway, let me know what you guys think. 
> 
> Thank you all for the support <3


	15. The Bullet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depictions of Violence. Nothing too major or too graphic. Also, Blood.

Lucifer was sitting at his piano, his fingers idly pressing the ivory keys to draw some melody, he didn’t really care which one. A tumbler filled to the brim with one of his finest scotches was sitting at the lid, accompanied by a burning cigarette that was filling the air with smoke. He was freshly out of the shower, dressed impeccably in a newly pressed suit. His night had everything it needed to be an excellent night, and yet Lucifer let out a bored sigh, not enjoying even the song.

His day had been quite uneventful, filled with boring club business regarding the party that was to happen that night. The only prospect that had made him endure the boredom was the magic meeting he was to have with the Detective. Lucifer hadn’t seen her since their little ‘date’ about two days ago, and he’d been craving her company ever since.

But true to his luck, just as the hour to meet her was approaching, she’d called him to inform of the new pile of paperwork that had appeared at her desk. He’d come up with some Lux business to sort through, but the disappointment in his voice had been hard to conceal.

The unexpected ding of the elevator arriving rang loud in the quietness of his misery, and his excitement returned full force. “Detective, is that you?” Lucifer abruptly stopped his song, turning around in hopes to see she’d ditched her paperwork in favor of him. “Hope you’ve come to your senses.” He called out. A night with him was immensely better than any paperwork, as far as he was concerned, and Lucifer wished she’d realized that as well.

But once the doors opened and a stranger walked through them, Lucifer realized how wrong he’d been.

“Well, that depends on who you ask, Mr. Morningstar.” A short, skinny man stepped up, gun drawn straight at Lucifer’s chest and with a maniac edge to his eyes. “I’m here to murder you.”

Lucifer felt the air still around himself as he took in a breath. Being murdered by this complete stranger was an outcome that would have never even crossed his mind, had it not been a possibility as of now.

“Well... that is a buzzkill.” He exclaimed absentmindedly before turning around for his drink. He’d have to talk his way out of this, and fear of any kind wasn’t something he could show. Lucifer just had to convince the probably lunatic stranger with the gun that he had nothing to gain with the Devil’s death. A walk in the park, really.

“I’m sorry, strange, disheveled gunman, have we met?” Lucifer got up as he asked, deeply annoyed at how his night had turned out. There was an underlying dread to his tone that he did his best to hide, but that couldn’t stop reminding him of all the blood that had come out of him from a simple glass cut to his hand.

“I don’t think so. Detective Malcolm Graham.” He introduced himself with a weird hand flourish, waving the gun around Lucifer’s person.

That name, he would recognize it anywhere.

“Ah, yes, of course! The infamous Malcolm.” Lucifer cheered falsely. The very same Malcolm that had almost shot the Detective, the Malcolm that had tricked her into meeting him, who had broken into her home, who had made her life hell even before the whole Palmetto mess.

Lucifer felt the Hellfire inside him raging into life, burning bright inside him and feeding into a searing anger, greater than it had ever been before. It started taking over him, his vision turning red before he could get a grip on himself. 

Anger and violence wouldn’t do him any good this time. It would only bring upon his own demise, and what would be there to stop this human scum threatening him to go after the Detective next?

He’d have to play the man, and so he let out a chuckle, forcing the fire in him back under control. “Tough times? You here to still my watch?” Lucifer mocked, taking a sip from his drink. It burned a path down to his stomach, a comforting feeling he’d gotten used to. “Well, there’s no need. You’ve caught me in a charitable mood.”

The apathy Detective Comatose showed wasn’t what Lucifer had been expecting, and it somehow made Malcolm seem to be getting crazier by the second.

“You could also use a decent suit. The closet’s that way.” He rattled out, vaguely pointing at the direction before turning around to face the city outside his windows, already covered by a cloak of darkness, with small, twinkling lights mirroring the sky. 

Lucifer was so utterly done with this nonsense already. Honestly, his day couldn’t get any worse.

“Thanks. I’m still going to kill you, though.”

“Ah...” Lucifer sighed for the millionth time and downed the remaining of his scotch. This little debacle with Malcolm was just making him so utterly tired. “I should also mention that if you pull that trigger, it’s a one way ticket to eternal damnation.”

At least it was what he hoped still happened. Considering it was him that was to be killed, Lucifer didn’t put it past his Father welcoming this nut job into Heaven for taking him down.

“Hell?” Malcolm scoffed as if it were the most ridiculous idea he’d ever heard in his entire life. “Oh, I’m not going to Hell. Now or ever again.”

“No?” Lucifer had decided that entertaining the man with the gun who was adamant in ending his life on Earth was probably the smart play. It had rubbed him the wrong way how Malcolm had said ‘ever again’, and how he seemed to be so certain of it.

Still, Lucifer didn’t see what he’d done to warrant being murdered by the decadent detective turned criminal. It was a bit too much, in his opinion, killing him to make the Detective drop her investigation on the Palmetto case, especially when he shouldn’t have known Lucifer was a part of it, but fortunately he didn’t have to keep wondering for too long.

“See, I made a deal with an Angel. And I’ve got orders to take you out. Your ass for mine.” His speech had initially made a shiver run down Lucifer’s spine, but as Malcolm kept speaking, his tone filled with such conviction, Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh.

So it wasn’t about Palmetto, after all. It was about Amenadiel screwing up and being desperate. The deprecating laugh he’d directed to Malcolm suddenly turned to him and all the brotherly love Amenadiel had for him.

“Sorry, it’s... My holier-than-thou brother has hired someone to kill me? Well, not very angelic of him, wouldn’t you agree.” He wondered out loud, placing his empty tumbler atop the piano.

Lucifer had to give it to his brother. Hiring someone else to kill him was such a low-level play, he’d never imagined Amenadiel would ever cross that line.

“You know what, Malcolm? It’s nighttime now. It’s funny how things seem much clearer in the dark.” Lucifer purred as he approached the criminal, his honeyed tone alluring even as it had a dark edge to it that could only belong to the Lord of Hell.

His skin began melting away with every step he took, his pale features giving way to the marred, raw flesh that he truly was. Eyes burning with the endless fires of Hell stared into Malcolm’s soul, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Is that all you got?” He had the nerve to defy him, mock him, and it threw Lucifer off of his game for way too long.

He stood still, staring at the crazy man standing up to the Devil, feeling some unpleasant tightness pressing at his chest. It was disturbing, to say the least. The only person that had been able to resist him before was the Detective, but this time didn’t feel the same as it had with her. This time had Lucifer actually worried.

“Interesting.” Lucifer conceded, and walked back to his piano, seeing no necessity of staying closer to the reeking human than he must. “Most people wet themselves when they see my nastier side.”

“Hm. Well, most people haven’t been to Hell and back.” Malcolm bragged, and the quickness Lucifer turned around once his words processed almost gave him whiplash. And if he took a second to notice, the reek of brimstone and sulfur that stain of a human exhaled was enough to send Lucifer into a mental trip downstairs.

Whatever bullshit Amenadiel had pulled this time to send him to Hell, all in the name of God, had gotten truly and utterly _mad_. Hellishly so.

“Rumor says you’re not immortal anymore. That if I pull this trigger, it’s bye-bye, Devil.”

Lucifer scoffed. Of course even this low-life, insane human stain would know about that little detail that had been haunting his mind for this entire confrontation. Lucifer pushed his hands into his pockets, one wrapping firmly around his Pentecostal Coin. He could probably use it to negotiate his way out of this. Give Malcolm a way out of Hell after his inevitable demise in exchange for his life on Earth.

He’d brought it with him as a safety measure. It was his only was of returning to Hell without his wings, and his only way of returning to Earth without his wings. Not that it mattered much anymore.

But his Coin was too important. They’d gotten scarce over the centuries as Lucifer began visiting Earth more and more. It was his way of getting topside without alerting the Heavens of his absence in Hell immediately, and it was his only guarantee to not get trapped inside a Door if he were to return to Hell forcefully.

Not that he ever could get trapped, of course. He’s the Lord of Hell, retired or not.

“Of course. Right. And what do you get in return, Malcolm?” Lucifer asked, trying to form a deal that could top Amenadiel’s. 

Deals were his thing, his signature move. No one could resist making a deal with the Devil, not even some angels. It shouldn’t be too difficult to convince some Lazarus wannabe about that.

“Your brother doesn’t kill me. I stay out of Hell, live out my life. I love life.” The idiot blurted out, and Lucifer could have felt sorry for him, weren’t him a murderer.

A dark chuckle spilled out of his lips and Malcolm joined him a few moments later, not realizing the joke was totally on him.

“You’ve been duped, Malcolm!” Lucifer shared happily, thoroughly enjoying the confused look that took over the scumbag’s face.

“Huh?”

“Angels can’t take a mortal life. It’s Dad’s rules. Sorry.” He was openly mocking the idiot now. It escaped him how this man could have orchestrated Palmetto and kept his criminal activities a secret when he was so easily deceived, especially by Amenadiel. Hell must have really done a number on him for that to happen. “And even if you do kill me... what happens when you do die? Because you will... eventually. You’ll still go back to Hell, Malcolm. There’s nothing my brother can do to prevent that.”

“What- what do you mean?” Malcolm stuttered, getting visibly upset. His grasp in control also seemed to be thinning. It made Lucifer think if this approach really was the better one, but he couldn’t stop now.

“Exactly what I told you. Hell has already claimed your soul.” Lucifer shared with mocking pity, feeling confident enough to step closer to him to maybe try to get the gun out of his grasp. “Now, whether the Devil shall be nicer or nastier to you, well... it’s entirely up to you.”

Malcolm looked shaken to his core, pacing madly around the penthouse, keeping Lucifer in his unsteady line of shot all the while. “No- _No!_ I don’t believe you. You’re the Devil, all you do is lie!” His voice was high pitched, his stability bordering on insanity.

There was a desperation that started taking over his sickly blue eyes that was only worsened by the low lighting in the penthouse. Malcolm pushed a hand through his greasy hair, pulling at it tightly as he stared at Lucifer.

“I get a bad rep for that, actually.” He couldn’t stop the comment from falling from his lips and it threw Malcolm even more off. It made Lucifer desperately wish for a drink.

The situation might just be getting out of control.

“No!” He yelled, rushing closer to Lucifer with that gun wavering, but staying just enough out of reach for him to be able to snatch it away without being shot. “I made a deal with an Angel! I’m not going to Hell!”

“But you _are_. I told you, you’re-” Lucifer tried one more time, but was rudely interrupted by Malcolm’s screams.

In retrospect, it hadn’t been the smartest thing for him to say, but Lucifer rarely thought about his actions beforehand. He’d always been someone to act in the heat of the moment, only this time, it cost him everything.

“_Stop lying!_” Malcolm yelled into the night, and whatever objections Lucifer had were suffocated by the exploding sound of a gunshot and burnt gunpowder filling the air.

The shot rang too loudly, almost deafeningly so, in the otherwise quiet night. Lucifer fell to the ground, but his misery was nothing to the bustling city just outside his window.

* * *

His lungs burned from the lack of air. Lucifer gasped into consciousness taking a deep breath, glad to feel the air filling his lungs. It smelled differently from what it should have, even tasted differently from what he was used to. When he forced his eyes open, instead of the grey stones from Hell, he was met with the black ceiling form his penthouse, the only smoke filling the air coming from the burning cigarette at the ashtray. 

Lucifer sat up with a groan, feeling a focused pain pressing down at his chest. Cold, torn pieces of metal fell to the floor with a clang as his hands reached the three bullet shaped holes that were ruining his shirt.

His fingers traced the marks the bullets had left in his shirt, slowly skirting around his skin. It was unmarked, no sign of scratches or blood. The only evidence that he’d been shot being the discarded bullets lying on the floor and the holes in his shirt.

Lucifer’s eyes frantically started their search for Malcolm, desperate as he tried to locate his would-be assassin, but it came to no surprise when he found his penthouse empty of murderers.

Pressure began building inside him, accumulating beneath his breastbone like some terrible feeling Lucifer couldn’t shake off. He rubbed his palm over the spot in his chest, his mind getting caught up to the fact that he’d been feeling this pressure growing inside him since he’d woken up.

He was about to get back on his feet, thinking about how his suit was brand new for him to continue stay on the floor when it was only his shirt that was ruined, when Lucifer felt as if someone was stabbing him right through his heart.

He fell back to the floor, his hands gripping tightly at his insides as he cringed from pain. It was so deep that it brought tears to his eyes, his mind feeling disoriented when he tried to open his lids. It briefly crossed his mind that he might have been in a Hell loop, until Lucifer realized what it was.

It was hurting his soul. It was hurting...

_Chloe._

His blood froze inside his veins, his entire being going still with fear. If Malcolm had gone after her...

Lucifer was up in a second, the Hellfire inside him fueling him with enough energy to keep steady on his feet and fight pass the pain. He had to make it pass, had to make it stop hurting, had to make _her_ stop hurting...

His eyes briefly flickered to the car keys on the bar counter, the scars on his back hurting as he considered his options, but in the end his urgency won out. Lucifer ran towards his balcony and in a second he was airborne.

His journey to the beach house was a blur, his heart thumping so madly inside him that it was making Lucifer’s head light. He didn’t know if it was from the flight or this tension winding him too tight, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

He’d barely seen her house before he was standing at the back door, pulling it open with such strength that he almost took it out of its hinges. The sight that greeted him made his eyes burn red.

The Detective was down, one of her hands tightly gripping at her hair while the other tried to keep her gun steady in her grip. Blood was trailing down her nose as she contorted in pain, a woman standing in front of her, her hand stretched forward as she kept the Detective under a spell.

To say Lucifer had thought before he acted would have been an outright lie. Before he knew it, his eyes were lighting up and energy began condensing on his palm. It left him in a rush, making the entire room tremble and pushing the witch into a wall. She was knocked out in a second.

His eyes focused back on the Detective, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm his heart. He was about to run to her when another witch surged forward, retaking control of the spell and pushing the Detective to the ground. Lucifer snarled, an inhuman growl leaving his throat, and stepped forward, stalking towards the man who had made the mistake to keep his Detective under his spell.

Lucifer hadn’t noticed it at first. He hadn’t noticed the witch turning her hand against her will, or making it take aim at him. Lucifer had only noticed when it was too late, and the witch had made the Detective press the trigger, the bullet coming at him.

“Ah.” Lucifer exclaimed in surprise once he felt the metal bullet grazing the side of his knee. He tried to keep steady, but the unexpected shot had thrown him out of his game. How he had managed to get shot yet again in the time span of only a few minutes was beyond his understanding. “Good for you!” 

Lucifer gave the Detective a brief, reassuring look, glad that the terror that had taken over her started to be masked away. The paralyzing fear that was so clear in the witch’s eyes brought a smirk to Lucifer’s face. It seemed the witch had finally realized who, or better, _what_, he was up against.

“Hardly hurts.” He said again, more to reassure the Detective than anything else, but there was a burning feeling that began spreading through his leg, then he felt something wet sliding down his calf. And then it _hurt_. “Actually, no, it’s hurting a little bit. It’s... hurting a lot.” Lucifer fell to his knees, his legs too shaky to keep him standing as terror took over him. 

His eyes immediately rose to meet the Detective’s, the fear so evident in her blue ones that it made Lucifer’s chest ache.

What was he to do if the witch threatened _her_? What _could_ he do, down on his knees and bleeding on the floor. He’d be useless to protect her, protect himself. It was a playground for the fear to grow on him.

But thank the stars it was the Devil’s lucky day. The witch quickly dashed to grab his partner and ran, finally leaving the Detective to be free from their magic. She rose slowly, wobbly on her feet as she stumbled on her way to him.

“God, what have I done?” She whispered as she kneeled by his side, her hand softly going to cover his where he was trying to keep his blood from pouring out.

“Do you really have to bring Dear Old Dad into this?” Lucifer whined, trying to deflect her concern and disguise his pain.

“I’m so sorry, Are you okay?” Her voice trembled as she asked, her eyes searching in his.

And that was just it, was it? There was just _so much blood_, on him and on her. He wanted to reach out to her, but his hands were bloodied, and the red liquid was beginning to pour on the floor.

“I’ll be back in just a second, okay?” The Detective reassured him, giving a little squeeze on his shoulder before she left to climb the stairs.

It was terrifying, seeing the liquid that would keep him alive pouring out of his body. True, he’d bled before, but it had never been accompanied by the painfully real possibility of death and a lifetime sentence in Hell.

The dim lighting of the living room caught onto something on the floor, the reflection directed at his eyes. Lucifer reached for it, his life and death worries momentarily forgotten as he turned the object in his fingers. It was a smashed bullet, much like the ones he’d found at his penthouse, but unlike those, this one was covered in deep, red blood.

He was caught on trying to figure out what it was that made this shot so different from the ones aimed at him earlier, when the Detective climbed down the stairs and it hit him.

_It was her._

He’d cut his hand when she was next to him, he was bleeding now and she was there by his side, but when Malcolm had come after him, she was miles away.

Lucifer was stuck in place as the Detective knelled back by his side, rummaging through her first aid supplies. “I’m so sorry.” She began apologizing one more time, refusing to let her eyes meet his. But it wasn’t her fault, or was it?

He didn’t think it was. There was no way the Detective could be doing this consciously. Lucifer didn’t think she’d try to hurt him, so it couldn’t be her fault. Which only made this selective vulnerability of his even messier.

“It’s alright, darling. It wasn’t your fault.” Lucifer placed his less dirty hand on top of hers, where she was working on dressing the wound, and her eyes shot up to meet his. Only a second passed before she quickly averted her gaze away.

He let her to it, keeping quietly until he was mostly bandaged and the bleeding had stopped. The Detective helped him up, then, supporting him as they stumbled to the sofa and he sat at the arm, her coming to stand between his legs.

It made his chest flutter, her closeness to him. His skin felt like it was on fire, desperate for her to put it out with her touch. The moonlight coming from the outside provided most of the lighting for them, and it made her baby blue eyes shine. They looked beautiful, even if she was refusing to meet his gaze.

There was no reason for them to be this close. Lucifer thought it was mostly about the comfort, the reassurance that they were both okay, so he spread his legs just that tiny bit wider apart to allow her to stand closer to him, and just movement had that bloody fire taking over his leg again. And it hurt, it hurt too bloody much. It wasn’t by far the worst pain or the worst injury he’d ever suffered, but damn it hurt.

“How did you know?” The Detective asked, her voice small as her eyes shone in the low light. “How did you know I needed you?”

“I felt it.” Lucifer replied quietly, raising a hand to touch his sternum, where the pressure had begun. It only crossed his mind that his hand was still covered in blood when he’d already touched his snowy white shirt. It wasn’t like it wasn’t already ruined in the end. “It was... I could feel what you felt, so I came.”

For a moment, it was enough to just look into her eyes. To drown in the openness of her blue ones and feel cared and accepted and belonging. Feel good about himself, about them.

She raised her hand and placed it above his where it rested in his chest, and his heart skipped a beat. “_Thank you_.” The Detective said, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand warm above his. 

Lucifer smiled, his own voice low. “I’m sorry it took me so long. I was... rather incapacitated.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, just that hint of dread seeping into her tone. He slowly brought his hand down, taking hers with his, to reveal the holes in his shirt. Her eyes grew round as they raised to meet his, a choked gasp escaping her lips. 

“Coma boy decided to pay me a visit today.” Lucifer told her with bitterness coloring his tone, and the tension that grew in her was almost instantaneous.

“Malcolm? What did he want with you?” She asked, and when it dawned on her, she looked back to the holes in his shirt with new eyes. Both her hands rose, her cold fingers touching his skin through the holes. “He shot you?!”

“Yes, well... He said my brother, Amenadiel, had hired him to kill me, but as you can see Malcolm failed at his job.” His tone is cheerful, his hands raising at his sides.

The Detective looked absolutely scared for a minute, the complete opposite of him, or of what he was trying to present not to worry her. Her hands hovered the ruined fabric, and before he knew it, she was reaching for the buttons of his shirt and undoing them. It made a chill run down his spine, all the muscles in his belly clenching as she made her way down. And his stomach did the weirdest, but not unpleasant, thing, goosebumps running through his skin, when she untucked the shirttails from his trousers.

Lucifer wanted to make a remark – any innuendo would do, in fact – but there was something in her eyes, some feeling that was taking over him as well, both from him and from her... and he couldn’t bring himself to ruin the moment.

The Detective’s wandering hands lost focus, her fingers reaching up to trail the scars stretching across his chest. 

“Raziel...” Lucifer said before she had a chance to, her eyes unreadable as she locked her gaze with his.

It made his muscles flutter, her warm palms running through his chest on their way down to his abdomen. The slashes weren’t as bad as they had been, already in the process of healing, but it didn’t make them any less sensitive to her touch.

After she had thoroughly ran her hands over the slashes, her attention focused on the skin above his breastbone, her fingers digging into it to find the inexistent injuries. 

“How...” She locked her eyes on his, her blue orbs filled with uncertainty. “I don’t understand...”

“To be honest, I’m not sure I completely understand it myself, but I’m perfectly fine.” Lucifer tried to reassure her, but the Detective didn’t seemed at all convinced, her eyes still drowning with worry. Her hands kept pressing to his chest, his stomach doing flips that made him flutter. It was quite pleasant. 

Her eyes continued to worry for him, nonetheless, and his eyes rolled at her stubbornness. He finished getting his shirt and jacket off, before doing a little spin to prove to her he was okay. The sudden weight he put into his injured knee almost made Lucifer hiss, but he endured it if it meant some peace of mind to his Detective.

“See? I’m completely fine.” He pressed, but she didn’t seem reassured in the least.

Her cold palms pressed to his waist this time as she spun him around, and Lucifer turned his back to her willingly, not sure on what she was up to. But then he felt the faintest pressure of her fingers close to the twin, crescent shaped scars in his back and Lucifer snapped.

He turned to face her in a split second, holding her wrist maybe a bit too tight to stop it from touching his back.

“_Don’t_.” Lucifer said, his voice cracking, and he felt moisture in his eyes. His scars, they still felt too raw in his back, raw and monstrous. And they were connected to the deep scars in his mind. “_Please_.”

“Okay.” The Detective relented almost immediately, her voice soft and her eyes trained in his. It made Lucifer feel self-conscious for some reason. Vulnerable, in more ways than just to injury.

He let out a tense sigh, staring at her eyes until it made him feel uncomfortable. Lucifer sat back at the armrest of the couch and slowly rose his hands coated in his dried blood to her waist, carefully pulling her closer to him, the same way she had been standing before.

For the first time, their closeness made him feel self-conscious of his state of undressing, and by the flush that was taking her cheeks, she felt the same. But still, Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to be away from her, to let her go.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, about the other night.” The Detective said out of the blue, unsure of what to do with her hands. But her voice was soft, and so were her eyes, and it made him relax. “Why I showed up drunk at your place, or why you wouldn’t sleep with me, and I think, _us_, our _thing_...” She sighed and Lucifer could feel her emotions burning strong inside him, too. “Maybe it goes beyond just the magic, or simply being friends.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” He remarked, needing any type of relief from this new onslaught of pressuring feelings inside of him. From this maddening, uncontrolled spiral of emotions that his night had turned into.

The Detective rolled her eyes, but for the first time, Lucifer hadn’t cracked the joke thinking about sex. Though, with the amount of times she’d given him blue balls, it hardly ever escaped his mind.

“Anyhow.” She stressed the word, leaving all possibilities for him to tease her out of it. “I, uh, I just...” The Detective took a deep breath and set her eyes deeply into his. “I can let my guard down with you. I don’t do that with anyone else. You make me vulnerable, and... Maybe that’s okay.” She finished with a fondly softness, and Lucifer felt her emotions swelling up inside of him, just behind his sternum.

“Detective...” Lucifer started, unsure, one of his hands rising to touch the point in his chest where her feelings seemed to emanate from. “If it’s any consolation to your pride... it appears you make me vulnerable, too.” He wasn’t sure if it was right, but that guess seemed to be proving true with every passing second. Lucifer didn’t know if he’d simply meant it physically, or emotional as well. Both ways scared him, bringing a new vulnerability he had never felt before, and they made the bloodied bullet in his pant pocket feel like it weighted tons more than it actually did. 

All this conflicting emotions of his, Lucifer tried to tune them down without much success once he noticed the Detective tentatively raising her hand to her breastbone, making him wonder if she could feel what he was feeling, too.

“Well.” She broke off the staring after a minute, taking a step back from where she’d been standing tentatively close to him and his bare chest, close enough for him to feel the heat of her body seeping into his. “I need to clean up. You can use the bathroom down here if you want.” The Detective left her eyes trained on the ground, and an audible sigh escaped her lips when the pool of his blood came into her sight. “Your pants are soaked with blood. You should probably take them off.”

The suggestion was out of her mouth, and not a second after she was turning around to leave. It gave Lucifer whiplash, this contrasting attitude, but from the look in her eyes, the Detective hadn’t even realized what had come out of her, too tired to process. It didn’t stop Lucifer’s eyebrows from reaching his hairline in surprise.

“Wait, you’re wearing shorts beneath them, right?” Lucifer nodded and watched her bend down to pick up the last of the first aid supplies before heading to the stairs. She stopped suddenly and turned around, her eyes falling immediately to his once white, discarded shirt, now stained with his blood. “I’ll bring you a shirt.” 

The Detective was gone for long minutes, and at one point Lucifer heard the shower running. He’d busied himself in the bathroom downstairs, making quick work to get the blood off of him. It was surprisingly difficult to wash away, and the pain in his knee kept getting worse the longer he stood. Eventually he gave up, getting used to the idea that he wasn’t going to get any cleaner than he already was.

When the Detective finally came down the stairs, wearing a soft sweater and sweatpants instead of her work clothes, Lucifer was sitting at the couch only in his underwear. She awkwardly threw him a t-shirt, bright, lime green, with Sol de Javier’s logo on it and surprisingly his size. He wanted to whine about her choice of clothing for him, but there was a heavy tiredness in her eyes that threw his objections out of the window. 

Slowly, she made her way to his side, plopping herself on the couch. A comforting sort of silence began involving them, allowing Lucifer to relax for the first time that day. Morning had been so long ago...

He felt his lids growing heavier and heavier, taking longer to open every time he blinked. Lucifer felt the Detective growing sleepy by his side, melting into the cushions and sliding closer to him, with her head just a silver from properly being on his shoulder.

Lucifer only wished he had the nerve to move his arm around her and pull her close, but he couldn’t have her be scared away.

Despite his eyes being closed, and feeling relaxed for the first time since the day began, Lucifer couldn’t fall asleep. The throbbing in his leg began spreading again, stopping his mind from shutting down to rest.

The Detective noticed his tired restlessness, and carefully placed her hand close to his injured knee. Her touch made goosebumps run through his thigh, his body becoming hyper aware of hers resting on him, of how close they were and how intimate her touch was.

She seemed to realize what she’d done, or how he’d reacted to it, only moments after it, and she quickly retreated her hand, and her whole body to some extent, as if he’d burned her. In reality, it was her touch that had burned him, her hand leaving an imprint of warmth in his skin, making him miss her.

“You wouldn’t want to maybe try that healing spell now, would you?” Lucifer asked hopefully, desperately wishing the uncomfortableness in his knee would just stop.

His request sent her sleepiness away and she rose to a seating position, her eyes fixed on him. “Do you think I can?” The Detective asked, her voice small, almost engulfed by the darkness around them.

“I do.” Came Lucifer’s reply, and it was the absolute truth. They’d come a long way since that first candle.

“Okay.” She said and took a deep breath.

Lucifer walked her through it, explaining next steps and the nuances of healing magic. The Detective had struggled a bit in the beginning, but overall it had been an extremely pleasing experience. It brought forth a sense of peace like only the stars had spurred on him before.

It had made him feel cared. It had been eons since someone took their time to care for him, to make sure he was okay. To his unhappiness, it was all over awfully quickly.

The Detective was almost finished with his injury when then door was forcefully opened, startling them both out of the comforting atmosphere they’d settled in.

They both sprung to their feet. Lucifer struggled to keep his footing for a second, the pressure of his weight too much for his nearly healed knee to take all at once, but the Detective reached out to support him. He felt his heart beating in his throat in anticipation as two figures walked in, but to both their luck and despair, it was only Maze and Amenadiel.

For some reason, Lucifer felt his temper flaring, indignation and irritation at their sudden interruption battling inside him. “What the bloody hell! Mazikeen?!” He yelled, his tone demanding. It attracted Maze’s eyes to him, and then to the Detective by his side. Her scoff was instantaneous.

They stepped into the light, and Lucifer could see how she was supporting Amenadiel, his arm thrown over her shoulder as she carried him inside.

“Right. Of course you’re at _her_ house.” Lucifer could feel the disgust in her voice, but it was somewhat diminished by the way she was swaying under Amenadiel’s weight. “Whenever I track you, you’re always with _her_.”

“What happened to him?” The Detective asked, ignoring Maze’s evident dislike towards her. She squinted her eyes in a last attempt to see their intruders more properly, and Lucifer did the same.

The blade sticking out of Amenadiel’s side – Maze’s blade, forged in Hell – was not something he’d been expecting.

“Oh, great. This day just keeps getting better.” He scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his tone. The Detective rushed to Maze’s side to help move Amenadiel to the couch, and Lucifer swayed in his feet for a second with her support gone.

He got out of the way, feeling useless limping around because of his knee. And it was just that tad bit pathetic that he was mad at his brother for betting stabbed and ruining his little moment with the Detective.

“What happened here? And what are you wearing?” Maze asked, her eyes scanning down his body and the general mess of the room. They lingered on the bandage around his knee and the small puddle of almost dried blood on the floor, and Lucifer could swear the air grew still with her anger and dread.

“I should be asking you that.” He rebutted, trying to take her attention out of him as he turned to assess his brother’s injury.

“Well, too bad I asked first.” 

Lucifer took a page out of the Detective’s book and rolled his eyes. “Well, long story short, big guy here hired someone to kill me.” He said, arms outstretched and pointing at Amenadiel, who at least had the decency to look guilty.

Maze set her eyes on the angelic idiot, fire and violence oozing out of her as she stalked closer to him. At the same time, the Detective lashed out at Amenadiel, both her stance and her anger incredibly defensive of Lucifer. It made the Demon side eye her, with something akin to respect at her fighting for him. And it probably would’ve been true, if it wasn’t the Detective they were talking about. The one human Maze probably hated the most because of her involvement with Lucifer.

“Yes, well, too bad for you because I actually lived. Then I got here and Raziel had sent witches after the Detective. I wonder whose idea it was.” Lucifer pointedly looked at Amenadiel who cowered under his gaze.

“I’m sorry, Luci. All of this... I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. Look at me...” He whined out with more pity for himself than any actual apology for Lucifer. 

He focused his trained gaze back at the Hell forged blade sticking out of his brother, coming to the conclusion the knife was what was keeping him from bleeding out. Amenadiel had his eyes trained on it as well, but his looked pathetic.

“All those deaths...” Amenadiel continued. “And- and resurrect- resurrecting humans? All I wanted was you back in Hell where you belong, but I lost sense of it and look at what happened.”

“What?!” The Detective snapped and Maze scoffed in disgust, but it made Lucifer freeze.

All pieces clinked into place inside his mind at once, and he felt as if he could finally see clearly for the first time, at least when it came to Amenadiel.

“That’s why you were so adamant in getting me back to Hell, lately. So I wouldn’t mess with Raziel’s plan.” His voice was calm, almost sweet, but it made the air grow quiet around them, heavy with both anticipation and disgust.

Both women at his side tensed at his affirmation, while Amenadiel cowered under their combined gaze. But not Lucifer.

The fire inside him burst all at once, all the controlled rage he tried to keep hidden came forth, the Lord of Hell trying to escape his human prison.

“_He killed Delilah!_” Lucifer snapped, voice thundering through the previously silent room, his face coming dangerously close to Amenadiel’s, teeth bared, Hellfire running through his eyes. He was losing control of his glamour, but there was no real reason to hold back, was there? He was the Devil, the punisher, and it was time he got to work.

But a hand at his wrist made him stop, even if it was for just the barest of seconds. Then another hand was placed on his back, far too close to his scars for Lucifer’s liking, but their thumbs began running circles on his skin, and the Detective kept calling his name, her voice small and sweet, until even his eyes receded to their usual brown.

Lucifer pulled away with a sour taste in his mouth, working hard to catch his breath. The Detective kept her hand at his wrist, her thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive skin there, and it allowed him to take control of the beast, even if he knew some part of his anger would never fade away.

“All those people Raziel killed... it’s all on you.”

“No, Luci. Can’t you see he manipulated me? He-” Amenadiel tried to defend himself, but it was easy enough to see through. He just couldn’t accept his part of the blame, he couldn’t see how it was his fault.

“Oh, cut the crap, Amenadiel.” Lucifer snapped, disgust written everywhere in him. “It’s time for you to take responsibility for your actions. Isn’t that what you told me?”

“At least six people are dead because of Raziel, and whether you meant it or not, you helped him. Some kind of Angel you are.” The Detective shot at him, and it was plain in his face that that was the one that hurt the most.

Amenadiel had always been too proud of being Daddy’s loyal boy. And sure he looked guilty by then, but Lucifer knew it wasn’t for the right reasons.

He was guilty for being caught, guilty because of his twisted way of looking into the world, and not because he understood how wrong and sick what he’d done was.

“Why now?” Lucifer asked out of the blue, voice strangely apathetic. 

“I realized what I was doing, what my actions had unwillingly caused. I tried to make Raziel see to reason, but...” His brother’s gaze fell to the blade sticking out of him, and it was easy enough to figure out what had happened next.

“I shouldn’t do this. After everything... all you did to me, to those _innocent_ people...” Lucifer scoffed, but rolled his shoulders anyway, and his wings unfurled. It took the breath out of Amenadiel, his eyes wide and lost as he gazed into the glowing Universe that were Lucifer’s wings. It took him a second to remember Amenadiel hadn’t known they were back, and their sudden return probably scared him, more than he could ever let on. “You _deserve_ to be punished. I should let you suffer, let Father deal with you. I don’t think He’s too happy with you killing his humans.”

The comment drained Amenadiel’s face of color and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat. It was clear he hadn’t thought about it, or maybe he’d thought Father would just take his side, but with this many people against him... It was making him see the other side.

Lucifer reached for a feather and tried not to wince as he pulled it out. The very tip of the root came red with a drop of his blood. He handed it to Maze and quickly furled his wings back out of sight.

“She probably shouldn’t be here for this.” Maze warned, pointing at the Detective with her head, feather held next to Amenadiel’s injury.

Lucifer nodded and turned to the Detective. For the first time in his life he was glad she didn’t question it. With a small squeeze to his wrist, he let her pull him away.

They remained silent as the Detective walked him out through the back door and into the porch. It was the door he’d busted through earlier, but in his haste he hadn’t noticed the moonlit porch, the beach only a few feet away, the peaceful quality of the space, or the wooden swing she was walking him towards.

Being in the back of her beach house, it didn’t completely cut the sound of the hustling city just at the other side, but it made them muffled enough for them to enjoy the quietness.

Lucifer was too caught up watching the waves crash in the dark when blinding, divine light poured from the inside, suffocating the silent night. It made him feel sick.

His aversion to the fact didn’t stop the Detective’s surprise. She tried to stare at it, but eventually it was just too bright. She took a seat by his side on the swing, both their eyes tightly closed until the light show was over and it was face to open them again. 

A calming quietness took over them, but this time Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to rest. His eyes were trained in the faint glow of the stars, but his mind was entirely too focused on her presence by his side. Especially when the winds blew and she comfortably shifted closer, greedy for his warmth.

He’d sneaked a few glances at her from time to time, nothing too long for fear of getting lost in her eyes or making her too conscious of their nearness. But there was something in her eyes, an unspeakable battle with herself. Lucifer nudged her with his shoulder, something soft in his eyes as he gazed at her.

It gave her courage to speak her mind. Which, in hindsight, hadn’t been his best move.

“I know this is probably the worst moment for me to say this, but I’m worried about Dan. I haven’t seen him in a couple of days and I don’t think he showed up to work today.”

His heart stopped for a second, dropping from inside his chest. His eyes fell away and he sighed. It definitely hadn’t been what he was expecting her to say.

Lucifer moved slightly away from her, needing a physical barrier to gather his confused feelings back into order. He didn’t think he could take another rejection, not from her.

“I’m sorry. Forget about it, I shouldn’t have said anything.” The Detective apologized quickly, her own eyes falling to the floor. “He’s not even _here_, he hasn’t been in a long time, and after that text... I don’t know why I still care.”

“Because you’re an annoyingly good person.” Lucifer shared with a hint of humor to disguise the open vulnerability in his speech. It left him feeling lighter despite the weight of the night pressing him down.

The Detective felt it as well, if the huff she gave him was anything to go by. “So are you.” There was a gentleness in her eyes as she gazed into his that was precious to him, untainted by the world, which was anathema considering she was gazing upon the Devil. “I wouldn’t say _annoyingly_ so, but what you did for your brother... and everything you’ve done for me...” Her hand reached out for his and he squeezed hers back.

And there the Detective was, doing it again, making him feel too much. Lucifer could feel all his emotions going crazy inside him, but for the first time, he didn’t feel like running away from them. With time, they started to quiet down, settling into just one, one strong enough to take control of him whole.

One that he didn’t know where it was coming from, but that made him feel better than any other one ever could.

“Amenadiel was wrong you know?” The Detective said eventually, breaking him out of his reverie. “You don’t belong in Hell.”

As much as Lucifer didn’t want to, his eyes fell to the hand she was holding. He didn’t exactly know what he was feeling in that moment, but she always had a way of making him feel that, feel too much. Feel _good_. About things, about _himself_.

She made him want to be good.

But in that moment, his emotions had already gone into overdrive, and after the day he’d had, Lucifer just didn’t have the capacity to emotion properly.

So, true to himself, it was finally time to run.

“Well, then.” Lucifer clasped his hands and abruptly stood up, disturbing the balance they had achieved. “You should get some rest, darling. I’ll go looking for the Douche.”

“What, no.” The Detective also stood, her hand reaching for his wrist to stop him from moving further away. “I can’t let you go in alone, I’m the detective here. Besides, you need to rest, too, or do I have to remind you that you’ve been shot _twice_ today?”

“More like four times, but who’s counting, right?” He joked, but it fell flat next to her troubled gaze. “Very well, Detective. I suppose we could go looking for the Douche in the morning.” Lucifer relented, far quicker than he usually would, but this wasn’t the time to linger on that decision.

Hustling and arguing on the inside caught their attention. It wasn’t exactly an inviting idea, joining those two with all this bickering and Amenadiel’s brooding in the living room, so Lucifer let the Detective pull him back down to the swing, resuming their relaxing atmosphere. 

Despite the periodic chilly breezes, being outside was comforting in the way the living room had been. Lucifer had worked up enough courage to extend his arm at the back of the swing, and the Detective gladly attached herself to his side, both for the warmth and the support.

It had all been quiet and calming and comforting and perfect until her phone rang, startling them both.

“Ella? Is everything okay?” She answered the phone after checking the time. It was getting late, he knew, but Lucifer was used to the weird hours with owning a nightclub. The Detective on the other hand...

“Well, it depends on what you consider okay.” Lucifer heard the tech say, her voice tight with a nervous laugh. He didn’t know her very well, but from what he’d gathered, that was not how she usually sounded like. “I’ve just returned from a scene and... Detective Torres and Officer Jackson are dead, murdered. And the police thinks you did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was a bit tricky getting Chloe to shoot Lucifer in this one. i hope you guys think it fits well with the scene. also, if you’ve read part three of my bingo series you’ll remember the porch scene. i couldn’t help myself with this one :p
> 
> thank you all for the love <3


	16. The Hangar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gun violence. Also, canon temporary character death.

“Again, why exactly does the police think you killed those officers?” Lucifer asked as the elevator doors opened to his penthouse. The duffel bag he was carrying was placed on the bar counter and he made his way to his bedroom, hands already working in removing his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Like I told you before, we had some public arguments because of Palmetto and they think I held a grudge against them.” Chloe explained for the millionth time that day, making a beeline for the couch as she stepped inside.

That particular conversation had been ongoing between them since Ella had called in the middle of the night, and each time she tried to explain, Lucifer seemed to be coming up with even crazier counterarguments.

A long, content sigh escaped her lips as she sat down, letting the soft leather cushions engulf her whole. It was the first time since the sun had dawned that Chloe allowed herself to relax. Her fingers rose to massage her temples, willing the exhaustion headache away before it could properly settle in.

It had seemed like forever ago since Lucifer and she had been sitting on the swing at her porch, quiet as the calming dark of the night surrounded them both.

It was weird how a simple phone call had disrupted it all.

Ever since her phone had rung, neither Lucifer nor she had managed at least one minute to try to sleep. They’d spent most of the night trying to look for Malcolm and cleaning up the recent fight in her living room when their search hit a wall.

Dan had also been a constant worry in her mind. She hadn’t seen him in a few days now, not since the day he’d broken up with her, and Lucifer had been more patient with her because of it than she could have ever asked for.

Had it been Lucifer who was missing, Chloe wasn’t so sure Dan would be willing to help.

Normally, she wouldn’t be as concerned as she was with his sudden disappearance. He always did go silent when they argued, giving her a cold shoulder and even avoiding her at work or at home. And with the ghost of their messy breakup hanging over their heads, she had sort of expected him to drop out of her orbit for a couple of days.

And it would have been – not ok, exactly, since she hated when he disappeared on her without leaving at least a voice mail – had this been a normal situation, but this wasn’t it. Malcolm was on the loose, and he having killed two police officers already and attempted to kill Lucifer, her gut had been going haywire with possibilities.

After several dead ends and unsuccessful attempts at tracking both the missing detectives, Lucifer and she had hit a really close call with Malcolm at a brewery on Fifth Street.

The lead had come from Malcolm’s wife of all people, which had them both suspicious at first. In the end, their lack of previous results had won out, and the Detective and the Devil stormed the brewery. Chloe knew the place was a front for trafficking, so it wasn’t really surprising to them when they found Malcolm doing business with the criminals there.

He’d tried to run from them, but eventually he was forced to either leave his duffel bag of runaway cash behind or get caught, so the bag had stayed behind. Which, at the very least, hindered his plans of fleeting town.

It wasn’t exactly the best case scenario, but it was all they had gotten.

What had truly impressed her, though, had been her capacity of handling Lucifer whining all day long about the proper shower he just _must have_. It was what had brought them back to the penthouse in the first place, allowing her a moment to rest.

“It doesn’t seem like a strong motive to me.” Lucifer commented, showing up at the threshold of his bedroom mostly undressed save from his silk shorts, and ready to hit the shower. It had taken every bit of her self-control to keep her eyes leveled at his.

It was just so hard to ignore all that alabaster skin directly in her line of sight. Those lean muscles sculpted to perfection, his entire being one of the masterpieces from the old Greek masters, his essence carved into the purest stone.

But just like countless other times before, it was his hair that trapped her gaze. Brown strands curled into themselves, crowding his head. It made him look every bit the Angel he so desperately tried to distance himself from.

His hair was flowing more freely then, him having ran his hands thought to get some of the gel off. It made her wish that his messy curls had been her doing instead.

“If the lead detective in the case is one of Malcolm’s buddies, then they don’t really need a real motive to want to arrest me.” Chloe replied instead of letting her mind keep wondering about him and his pretty self. Her words made a misery get the turn on her, consuming the space in her insides that had been harboring a gentle flame up until then.

What had become of her career that all her colleagues hated her, going as far as arresting her and pinning murders on her, and all because of a diversion of opinions? About in-house corruption of all things, something all of them should be on the lookout for.

A troubled expression settled over Lucifer, as if a private thundercloud had taken residence over his head, creating a personal storm. It caused him to grow still, stuck in silent contemplation. Chloe had to fight the urge of going to him and placing a comforting hand to his shoulder, if only to send that worry away.

The way he startled once he broke out of his reverie was palpable, him visibly shaking his head to send his thoughts away. He disappeared into his bathroom without saying another word.

Chloe stayed behind, alone in the relative silence for a long time, with only the faint sound of the shower running in the background and the ever-present sounds of traffic at the avenue below to fill her mind. It was a comforting kind of silence, one that sent even her troubling thoughts away.

She was melting into the cushions, her lids staying closed for longer and longer each time, sleep just about to knock on her door, but her phone, of course had other plans.

The ring startled her back to the land of the awakened, the noise disturbing the eerie peace she got from being so high from the ground. It was a surprise that it was Dan’s name that lit the screen.

“Finally! Dan, where were you? Lucifer and I have been looking for you all day.” The words rushed out of her, her tone edging between worry and relief. Chloe got up from the couch, a sudden burst of energy leading her to the balcony where she could pace her concerns off.

“Hello, Decker.” The voice that flowed out of the speaker was certainly not Dan’s, and it made her halt in her steps. Ice cold blood ran through her veins along with a paralyzing fear that had her hairs standing on end.

“Malcolm?” She asked tentatively, feeling her heart stopping mid beat. Dread took over her insides, all her police training forgotten at the face of fear.

“How’s the precinct? Oh, right, they’re hunting you now. Sorry for that. I still have some buddies at the station.” Malcolm’s smug smile was audible through the phone, unsettling her stomach. That sick man had Dan. It made her want to fume, lash out, curse the world, but she didn’t say a word.

This influence he still had over the precinct was his shield, his strongest card and her biggest fail. This witch hunt – _oh, the irony_ – that he most definitely had instigated for the murders was a clear demonstration of his power there and one of the reasons Lucifer and she decided to keep to his penthouse. The police didn’t know of their friendship, so maybe it could by them some time before they inevitably found her.

“Oh, there’s someone here who wants to say hi.” There was a shuffle on the other side of the line, metal scraping metal, pained grunts. She tried to prepare herself, but the theory she had learned on how to handle these situations didn’t even compare to the reality, not when it was her loved one on the line. 

“Chloe...” Dan called for her, his voice chocked, raspy. It made her wonder how long Malcolm had had him for. Since they broke up? Sometime after that? Last night?

Why hadn’t she done something about it sooner? Why hadn’t she realized it sooner?

“Dan, are you okay? Don’t worry, I’m coming for you.” Chloe rushed out the words, her grip tight on her phone, clutching it like it was the only thing keeping Dan alive.

“Uh, that’s enough of that.” Malcolm’s voice returned, disdain evident in his tone.

“What do you want, Malcolm?” She finally asked, her voice wavering as she tried to speak around the lump blocking her throat.

“Aw, poor Chloe Decker. Did someone take something from you, something valuable? Hurts, don’t it?”

“You want your money.” She said, her eyes immediately finding the black duffel bag Lucifer had placed on the counter when they arrived. It was a large bag, filled with hundred dollar bills, enough for him to skip town and disappear forever.

Chloe slowly walked back to the couch, sitting down before her legs gave out from beneath her.

“Bull’s-eye. Now, don’t even think about talking to the cops. Remember, you don’t know who’s with me.” He sounded incredibly pleased, satisfied at running her life, her career, and now putting an invisible threat over her head.

Chloe wished Lucifer was there with her, a solid rock by her side. He’d have probably lost his temper by then, or made enough snarky comments to piss off Malcolm. There wasn’t much he could do to help Dan – he’d probably do more damage than any good on that front – but he could certainly help her. He had a way of making her feel strong, and she needed that at the moment.

She was falling apart, too many pieces for her to hold herself together on her own.

Lucifer would probably encourage her not to comply, to look for the loophole, the hidden choice, because there was always one.

_ ‘That’s the beauty of free will.’ _

But he wasn’t by her side. He was there in the penthouse, so close, just a few steps to the bathroom, but it felt like he was miles away. She couldn’t allow herself to gamble with Dan’s life. Chloe had to play by the rules.

“Okay.” She relented, her gut screaming at her not to do so. This decision, it was the first time she remembered ever going so directly against it.

Seconds passed by in silence where Chloe waited and waited for a response, her heart feeling as if it were beating inside her throat.

“Meet me at the private airport hangar outside town, you know which one.” Malcolm said eventually, and she wanted to punch herself for being so stupid and forgetting about that place.

The only case she had ever been forced to work with Malcolm. They’d been chasing a lead he’d gotten from one of his C.I.’s, some magnate transporting drugs in a private plane. She’d been adamant about searching through the entire hangar, but Malcolm had rushed to close the case before she was satisfied.

It made sense he’d flee by plane. Even more so if it was one of his criminal buddies that owned it, owed him.

“Oh,” He added as an after though. “And keep Lucifer out of this. Just you... or Dan dies.”

Chloe swallowed dry. She wanted to argue about that, desperately so, but deep down she knew nothing she said would change Malcolm’s mind. It would just be her bringing a civilian to an armed conflict. 

There was no telling what Malcolm might do if he saw Lucifer there. He could just as easily try to kill him again. Being enemies with the Devil didn’t seem such a thrilling prospect after all.

Whatever she wanted to say, whatever words were fighting their way out of her lips, they died in her throat. The call cut out before she could say anything.

Chloe closed her eyes, her thumbs raising to press at her eye sockets. Her mind was running a mile a minute, thoughts rushing around, moving too quickly to settle in. 

Despite all the messiness of the situation, despite all her worry and her nervousness, Chloe couldn’t stop thinking how her life had turned completely upside down in less than 24 hours.

She suddenly stood, her eyes frantically scanning the penthouse before settling in on the duffel bag. The ticket to ensure Dan’s life. Only in the back of her mind did she register that the shower wasn’t running anymore.

Chloe was torn between telling Lucifer – and risking him not letting her go in alone – or leaving before he emerged from the bathroom – and going into a risky meetup without backup, and risking damaging their relationship, making him feel betrayed and abandoned...

It was an impossible choice, but in the end she knew what she had to do. Chloe quickly grabbed the duffel bag and entered the elevator, the ding of its doors closing sounding too loud in the quiet penthouse.

Unfortunately, her troubled thoughts accompanied her throughout the elevator ride downstairs, to the underground parking lot. It was wrong, and every fiber of Chloe’s being was screaming at her so, but leaving Lucifer behind was what would keep him safe. Malcolm wouldn’t be killing all three of them tonight.

It was all going to be okay, she kept repeating to herself, like a mantra. It was all going to be okay. It didn’t stop her hands from shaking so bad she could barely press the elevator button. Chloe grabbed the shoulder straps of the duffel bag in a futile attempt to keep her hands steady as anxiety took over her.

The metal car stopped at the lowest level of the building, sending her heart pounding madly against her ribcage, blood flowing so loud in her ears that she missed the now familiar hustling in the air just outside. 

With the elevator doors open, it was impossible to miss him.

Lucifer was standing at the other side of the doors, a dark suit and the black shirt underneath it looking even darker in the faint lighting of the parking garage. His hair was styled to perfection, soft curls long gone, wings like the very picture of the midnight sky hanging from his back, framing his form. He looked every bit the dark angel humans thought him to be. It was quite the sight to behold.

But the most remarkable thing about him was his eyes, more precisely the hurt flooding them. Chloe had become used to his eyes, to the ever present childlike wonder in them. His eyes always gave him away, always revealed everything he felt. She had become quite good in reading them over the months, all the invisible nuances, all his ticks and tells, all the different ways his chocolate eyes could sparkle... but she had never thought she would once be responsible for all the pain she could see in them at that moment.

“You going somewhere without me, hmm?” Lucifer tried for the humor, the easy way out, but the pain was just too much to be hidden from his tone. His eyes stayed glued on hers for the whole thing, breaking her resolve just that tiny bit more with every passing second she had to acknowledge his pain.

“I don’t have time to explain to you. Something just came up.” She said, averting her eyes when he didn’t. While what she said wasn’t exactly a lie, it hurt him as if it were.

“Something that obviously requires quite a bit of cash.” He pointed out, his piercing gaze at the duffel bag making it feel like it weighted a ton more than it actually did. “Or perhaps that phone call minutes ago has something to do with it.”

Chloe wanted to deny, to ease the worry from between his eyebrows, to ask him how he knew about that call and if he’d been eavesdropping on her. She wanted to me mad at him. 

She wanted to be so many things... She wanted to have Dan there, safe, so she wouldn’t have to put her friendship with Lucifer in jeopardy to rescue him. She wanted Lucifer to understand, and for once to not question everything. She wanted to protect him forever, to keep him from ever suffering from the pain that was eating him alive at this point.

But most of all, she definitely mad at Malcolm for forcing her into this corner without good choices.

Lucifer’s wings began shifting as her silence stretched on, responding to his emotions. They tried to fold at his back, pressing tightly against him to make themselves as invisible as possible, while also trying to reach out and surround him, protect him from being hurt.

Though she’d only seen his wings that one time in her living room, Chloe wondered how she hadn’t noticed it before, the way his feathers twitch and flutter and seem to move entirely without him meaning to, as if they had a mind of their own. They could be even more telling than his eyes, but those carried a weight that the divine feathers never could.

And it was that weight that finally ripped the truth from inside her.

“Malcolm has Dan.” It was a short sentence. Three words, four syllables, thirteen letters, yet it somehow got stuck in her throat. She should’ve been used to this by now. She’d lost count of the many times she had handled hostage situations, but never had she been on the other end.

“Oh.” It left his lips in a soft whisper, his wings moping down in response.

“If I get him his money, he’ll let him go.” 

“Right, because if Malcolm’s established anything it’s his trustworthiness.” Lucifer spat, scoffing as he finally let his eyes drop to the floor in frustration.

“What choice do I have?” Chloe snapped, feeling tears prickling her eyelashes. She’d _really_ love another option, one that didn’t put any of them in danger, but she didn’t have that.

The situation, it was all just too much, and Lucifer really wasn’t making it any easier.

“To ride shotgun with the Devil for starters.” He said, eyes raising to meet hers and taking a step forward. It made her stutter for a moment, unconsciously wanting to take a step back, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Chloe could almost see the fire burning inside his gaze, turning the soft brown into burning coals. “To use our powers to stop him, to face him together, to let the bloody police know so they can storm the place!”

There was a desperation to his eyes, one she hadn’t seen in Lucifer since they had been attacked by shadows all those weeks ago, when Palmetto wasn’t anywhere near solved. 

Come to think, the shadows probably were Raziel’s doing. It was his way to take Lucifer off the game without getting his own hands dirty, before he decided a more direct approach would be necessary to take down the Devil.

That night, with shadows surrounding them, focused only in taking their lives... it had been one of the scariest moments in Chloe’s life.

“I can’t call the police, I don’t know who’s with Malcolm. And if he sees you, he’ll kill Dan. I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it.” Chloe raised her hands to his arms in reassurance, feeling his muscles drawn taut beneath the expensive fabric. She bored her eyes deeply into his to make him see her point, but while Lucifer seemed to understand the reasoning, he just couldn’t accept it.

“Right. So you’re just gonna get both of you killed then, are you?” He argued back, all that vulnerability so painfully evident in his gaze only a second ago now totally gone, thick, high walls quickly built in its place. He shook his head, and her hands fell back down to her side.

“He needs his money to leave town. I won’t give it to him until Dan’s safe.” Chloe said between deep breaths, fighting to maintain her calm exterior. She could see he was only worried for her, she was worried for herself, too. It wasn’t like she had a death wish, but what else was there to be done?

“And what about your safety?”

“I don’t have time to argue with you, Lucifer.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it still cut deeply into him. He had his gaze trained on the floor has he recoiled back, this space Lucifer suddenly put between them seeming impossible to trespass, which was a punch in the stomach Chloe didn’t need at the moment. Of course she knew this was a terrible idea, of course she knew she might as well not survive this... what she didn’t need was for him to keep reminding her of that. “I realize how bad this can go, but I don’t have a choice. It’s Dan.”

Lucifer swallowed dry, his Adam’s apple bobbling up and down his throat. His posture went stiffer if that was even possible, shoulders sagging, a grimace taking over his features. 

“Promise me you’ll let me go alone.” Chloe delivered the last blow, her hands rising up to touch his upper arms. She knew she had to pronounce everything, word it perfectly and make sure he did the same, otherwise he’d just find a loophole and end up getting himself killed.

Misty eyes snapped up in a split second, staring at the bottom of her soul. “So you’re just going to leave me behind, then?” Lucifer asked, all his well-crafted walls crumbling apart at once. Chloe thought she’d seen tears prickling his eyelashes, but she refrained from commenting, his posture already showed his raw pain.

“Trust me, I’d much rather have you there with me, but I have to.” She pressed on, trying to convince him it was just that, that she wasn’t rejecting him the way he always feared she would. 

For unending moments, Lucifer just stood there, his eyes locked on hers. Chloe wanted to keep her hands comforting in his arms, smile and promise it would all be okay... but Lucifer flinched almost unperceptively, so she dropped her hands, afraid to be causing more harm than good with her touch.

“Fine.” He agreed in the end, swallowing back his emotions, his voice coated by that dark tone that made chills run down her spine. Lucifer averted his eyes to the floor for a second, and when they rose back to lock with hers again, there wasn’t a single emotion in their beautiful brown. “You have my word.” He relented, voice painfully apathetic.

It was her turn to gulp down her emotions. Chloe nodded stiffly, her hands tightening on the shoulder strap of the bag as her wobbly legs sidestepped him, taking her towards her car. The closer she got to it, the worse her half plan seemed.

She’d tried to fight the urge to look back at Lucifer. She knew it would only make her resolve crumble away, and it’d probably only make things worse, but her heart won out in the end.

In hindsight, it definitely wasn’t her best idea. When she looked back, Chloe found Lucifer also looking back at her. That lack of emotion was gone – his eyes, his posture, his wings, it all screamed defeat. 

Hurt. Rejection, abandonment.

He tried to look away from her eyes, but it was already too late. That picture of him, broken and in pain as he watched her leave him behind, was something Chloe would never forget. 

She took the last steps to her car, stashing the duffel bag in the trunk before opening the door and climbing in. Chloe let out a deep breath, her hands trembling when she reached for the steering wheel.

It was the right thing to do, she kept telling herself. She was doing the right thing.

But if it really was the right thing, why did she feel like she was about to make a huge mistake?

* * *

Never before in her life had driving been this difficult, this nerve-racking, except maybe during her driver’s exam, back when she was sixteen and got her first license. Chloe had no idea how she’d managed to make it to the hangar in one piece, with how badly her feet were trembling on the pedals and the heavy traffic surrounding her that she wasn’t paying attention to.

She slowly drove through the open gate, coming to a stop a few feet away from where Malcolm was standing. Her eyes immediately found Dan as she exited the car, unconscious and handcuffed to a metal crate, with a blood trail from a small cut at the side of his head.

Malcolm began following her movements as she stepped closer, his hand hovering above the holster he kept at his hip. Chloe’s first instinct was to run to Dan, free him, outnumber the man with the gun. Thankfully her police training spoke louder, forcing her to stand still and wait for Malcolm’s actions.

“Alright, easy, Decker. Easy.” He said, smug smile stretching his thin lips in a sickly smirk. He reached for his gun, upholstering it and pointing the barrel strait at her heart.

Chloe slowly raised her hands, careful not to startle him. Malcolm seemed worse than the last time she’d seen him. His hair was messy, overgrown and falling over his eyes, greasy with a lack of showering. His clothes were worse for wear, beat down and scruffy, his shoes had definitely seen better days. The purple bags beneath his wide, startled eyes dragged on like a tattoo.

His lack of stability would be Chloe’s wildest enemy that night.

“Glad to see you came alone.” He commented as his eyes drifted around, from her car to the gate she’d driven through, to the empty space by her side. It felt empty in a way it never had before, her subconscious constantly reminding her of Lucifer’s absence. It was like a void, just waiting to swallow her in her own shame. “Now toss the gun.” Malcolm ordered, carelessly pointing at the holster at her hip with his own gun.

Chloe did as she was told, carefully reaching for the gun and crouching down to send it to Malcolm. The metal skidded through the floor, screeching as it slid all the way until it stopped beneath his boot.

“Now the other one.” He added, feeling all too pleased with himself as he watched her crouch down to pick up the small handgun at her boot and repeat the process. It had really only been wishful thinking on her part that he wouldn’t remember about that one.

It was a stupid move, being unarmed in a situation like that, but she really had no alternative, not when Malcolm had all the leverage. And despite being anti-guns herself, Chloe couldn’t help the feeling of being naked without the weight of the gun at her hip. A side effect of being a police officer for so long.

“There. Are you happy?” She asked, the anxiety in her causing her voice to tremble.

“Yeah, once I get my money, sure.” Malcolm said, his smirk turning into mockery. His gaze grew expectant as he watched her, waiting for his bag of money before shooting her. “So, where is it?” He asked once it became clear she wouldn’t answer the first time.

“Not without Dan.” Chloe stood her ground, feeling the words working against her. It was a gamble, a dangerous move, demanding things from the unstable criminal with the gun who could literally trigger their destinies away, but she wasn’t about to just hand him everything and hope for the best.

“Oh, come on, Decker.” He tried again, waving the gun in her face.

“Malcolm, that’s the deal.” She gritted out, her voice thick with emotions that got out of her control for a second when the gun was haphazardly pointed at Dan.

Malcolm scoffed and rolled his eyes before reaching for his pockets. He produced a key that he threw at her without a care. Chloe barely managed to catch it, her heart feeling a tad bit lighter that at least she could free Dan now.

She reached for her own pockets then, taking out her car keys and pressing the button to unlock the trunk. “It’s there. It’s- it’s all there, in the bag.” Chloe tripped over her own words before a wicked smile spread over Malcolm’s features and she realized her small relief had been momentary.

Now was the time where all things went south, she thought. That was the moment Malcolm turned on their deal and killed them.

And he knew it, too.

“Yeah, I believe in you.” He said slowly, eyes still enthralled by the black duffel bag. Slowly, the gun raised back to her, barrel pointing straight to her head, his grin firmly back in place.

That was it, Chloe thought. That was her end. Not really how she’d envisioned it.

“You don’t need to do this, Malcolm.” She tried to bargain for her life, but it was futile. Malcolm now had everything he needed, and her alive wasn’t one of those things.

“I know, but I was gonna shoot you at Palmetto, and now I feel like I’ve been given a second chance here, so I’m sure as hell not gonna waste it.”

As much as she wanted to say anything, to question the craziness of his – lack of – judgement, she was stunned, so surreal it all felt. Chloe could only breathe and prepare herself for the deadly metal projectile that was bound to reach her anytime now, piercing her skin and making her blood pour out of her to take her away from this world.

She’d been shot before, a few times at least. A working hazard as she liked to call it. It made her wonder if her last bullet would feel any differently from the other ones.

There was a strange sense of comfort, knowing there was something else waiting for her after she was gone. It only sucked – really, _really much_ – that she wouldn’t get to see Lucifer ever again.

A paper airplane, of all things, flew in, lazily strolling through the air, doing curves and spins, before landing at the ground by Malcolm’s feet. A red, doodled devil face stood out on the white paper.

_Speak of the Devil_, she thought, mentally scoffing at herself and her stupidity when the familiar tingling started taking over her senses. It had really been naive of her to think she could best the Devil in a deal.

This _thing_ he caused on her every time he was around began filling up her missing parts, those parts of herself that had always been lacking something, someone.

Even if she’d explicitly told him so, of course he would never leave her behind. She had never been so happy and so pissed to see him.

“Is this really what you did with your second chance?” Lucifer’s voice boomed through the entire hangar, all-encompassing, powerful, building up as he leisurely strolled in, cocky grin plastered in his face. His brown eyes briefly settled on her before fleeting to the metal crates to her side, and it didn’t take much more for Chloe to understand what he meant. She only hoped he knew what he was doing. “Dearie me, Malcolm. _Pathetic_.”

She took up on his distraction and quickly darted to the crates, trying to be as quiet as possible. Not that Malcolm would have noticed, so fixed his gaze was in Lucifer.

“Hey, Lucifer. Hey, buddy. Long time, no murder. Though, that didn’t stick too well, did it?” Malcolm granted, taking a step forward when Lucifer stopped walking to him a few feet away, standing casually, hands in his pockets and looking every bit the smug bastard he was. Malcolm raised the gun to aim straight at his chest, but not even that made Lucifer’s mood falter. “Guess I need to find a more permanent solution.”

“Give me the gun, Malcolm.” Lucifer said, his tone bordering on bored as he raised a hand.

Malcolm scoffed, making the extra effort to avoid Lucifer’s eyes. “Why? Not afraid of you. All you’re doing is getting yourself killed, and for what? To buy your precious detective some more time?” He mocked, waving the gun in Lucifer’s general direction. It made the Devil scoff, his smile turning plastic.

No matter how crazy Malcolm seemed, his words rang true, making her sick as they settled in her. 

Chloe absolutely hated feeling useless. Both her guns were lying too out of her reach by Malcolm’s feet, and it meant she couldn’t do anything to help Lucifer help her. She could make a run to try to wake up Dan, but that would only help so much.

A confused, angry Dan would only make a target out of himself.

“No.” Lucifer replied suddenly, a hint of humor back to his voice. He let a smile spread over his lips, one that didn’t reach his eyes, but that was beside the point. His voice got honeyed, alluring, and it was all he needed to trap Malcolm. “No, I want to ask you a question.”

“Oh.” Malcolm let out a surprised chuckle. Lucifer soon followed, always charming, beaming smile that didn’t even come close to being real firmly in place.

“What do you desire, Malcolm?” He asked, a seriousness edging into his voice. It made her skin crawl. Chloe could almost feel him working his mojo like a physical thing, she only hoped Malcolm felt it, too.

Lucifer took the final step that brought him to stand right in front of Malcolm. It made Chloe’s heart stop mid beat. The gun was pointing directly at his heart and he reached his hand up, resting it over the barrel.

_Lucifer, what are you doing? _

An image of him bleeding on the floor took over her conscious mind, making it hard for her to stand still. Would he even bleed this time? Malcolm’s bullets hadn’t marred the skin in his chest, but when she’d shot him, he bled all over her floor. Would he bleed this time? _Would he die? _

Chloe didn’t know, and the anticipation was consuming her. His vulnerability seemed selective enough, and she could only hope it was in their favor this time if it came to that.

“What do you yearn for in that... rotten soul of yours?” Lucifer continued, honey dripping from his tone as he began to slowly lower the gun, careful not to let Malcolm out from his spell-trapping gaze.

“I...” Malcolm stuttered, too lost in Lucifer’s eyes, his grip on the gun failing.

“You’ve been given a second chance, Malcolm. Is killing Detective Decker really what you want to do with it?” Lucifer carried on. He just couldn’t stop talking, could he?

His gaze broke contact for a fleeting second, connecting with hers over Malcolm’s shoulder. It was quick, barely long enough for someone else to notice, but it was enough for his control over Malcolm start to wear thin.

“I don’t.” Malcolm answered, enthralled by the man in front of him. Lucifer focused back on the gun, almost done pulling it down by then.

“No, of course you don’t. You want to live, don’t you?”

“I do.” He agreed, faster than he had before, more clear-headed. Lucifer was maybe a bit too proud at himself or too worried about her to notice it, but from where Chloe was hidden, the clarity that started taking over Malcolm’s eyes was impossible to miss. “More than almost anything.”

“Almost?” Surprise took over his tone, breaking whatever last thread of control Lucifer still had.

It had all been quiet, too quiet for a moment, then a bang echoed in the still air, ricocheting on the metal walls, and going straight into her soul. The world stopped as burnt gunpowder filled the air, the sound of the gunshot rocking her foundations, and yet the sound of Lucifer falling to the ground was even louder.

His surprised gasp, his pained grunts, his body hitting the floor, his lungs struggling to suck in air. His drawn out words as Malcolm lingered over him, gloating, as blood poured out of his body.

Chloe wanted to scream. She wanted to run to Lucifer, she wanted to go back to the penthouse, go back to the porch when everything hadn’t gone to hell, go back to when they were happy and mess free. 

She wanted to shoot Malcolm, kill him for hurting her partner, her best friend, her person. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t take action, put herself out in the open, not when it would only be an invitation for a bullet to take her down as well. 

It wasn’t what Lucifer would have wanted.

The sickness in her stomach was barely bearable, a scream was stuck too tight in her throat. But the gun skidding through the floor to her direction tuned it all down.

Lucifer was laying on his back, his entire frame trembling, one hand pressing down at his stomach in a futile attempt to keep the blood pooling around him from rushing out. His other hand was outstretched, him having used whatever little energy he still had to magically push her gun from where it was on the ground to her.

His last strength spent making sure she would have a chance.

Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds, and despite all the pain, he smiled, the corners of his mouth tinted red.

The sound of metal sliding through the ground attracted Malcolm’s attention, and not a second later a bullet found its way to the crate Chloe was hiding behind. With a last calming breath, she made a run for it.

The couple meters that separated her from her last chance were the longest she’d ever ran in her life. Chloe threw herself on the ground to dodge a bullet, her hands grabbing the cold, deadly metal Lucifer had sent her way. She raised it, her shaky hands steadying as she took aim and pulled the trigger before Malcolm had the chance. 

Shots rang once, twice, three times, and a body fell to the floor. The sound imperceptible in comparison to Lucifer’s wheezing breaths.

For a second time in less than a minute, Chloe ran a marathon. Her legs burning with the effort versus Lucifer’s shallowing breaths that were growing further and further apart. Somewhere along the way, her gun fell from her hands, but she wasn’t sure where.

When Chloe finally neared him, she noticed his mouth moving slowly, silent words leaving his lips. He was still alive, but barely.

“Lucifer-” Her voice broke as she knelt by his side. Her hand went to cover his, pressing over his stomach to stop the blood that was staining the knees of her jeans from pouring out of him.

“Is- Is he-” Lucifer tried to ask, but blood filled his mouth, tinging the corners of his lips red. It made him cough, which rattled his entire body, making him wince in pain.

“He’s dead. Malcolm’s dead.” Chloe rushed out, feeling the tears running freely down her cheeks. 

Lucifer blinked, his eyes staying closed for far too long before he finally managed to open them again. She raised a hand to touch his cheek, his skin cold and clammy, paler than she’d ever seen him, and yet he smiled and leaned into her touch.

“Good.” He said, his voice too weak. Lucifer raised a hand to touch her cheek, the effort making it tremble even harder, but he stopped halfway once he realized his hand was red with blood. “Be safe... I’ll- I’ll be... okay.” He stuttered, giving her one last tired smile, before the life drained out of his eyes, before his soul left his body and turned off that little sparkle he’d placed inside her all those weeks ago.

“Lucifer? No, Lucifer, _please_ wake up. _You have to wake up_.” Chloe cried, grabbing his lapels to shake his body and bring him back, to Earth, to LA, _to her_. But it was too late, he’d already gone limp beneath her touch.

Her hands tightened into fists on his lapels and her forehead fell to his chest that wasn’t rising anymore, her tears soaking his already ruined shirt.

But he wasn’t there to complain about it anymore. 

“_Lucifer_-” It came out broken between her sobs as Chloe clung to her friend, what- _what used to be her friend_, his lifeless body growing colder by the second.

_And it was so wrong..._ He was always so warm, so full of life, and now... it was just _so wrong_.

There was a pull on the air, as if gravity was shifting in and bending over itself, and it made Chloe’s skin crawl, her hairs standing on end. She reluctantly raised her head from Lucifer’s chest, a hand going to cover the back of her neck.

A gust pulled up out of nowhere, winds agitating the atmosphere around her, making her hair fly around. There was a familiar hustling, and suddenly where there was no one, someone appeared.

Tall, plum purple wings, short light brown hair. He turned around to look at her over his shoulder, eyes locking at Lucifer’s still form on the ground before he smiled.

That was it. Everything was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go :) / ;-;
> 
> I hope you liked the twist in canon, it was certainly fun.
> 
> **Confused as to why Chloe didn’t use her magic in this one? Check the comments below for a full answer on that one.**


	17. The Denouement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were confused/curious about why Chloe didn’t use her magic powers last chapter to fight Malcolm, you might want to check the comments on the last chapter. I broke it down there with more details. :p

Lucifer took in a deep breath, the sour smell of sulfur rising to his brain and threatening to give him a headache. It burnt its way to his lungs, making smoke accumulate inside his throat and bringing tears to his eyes. It had been almost three years since he had left Hell, and yet its stench had somehow clung to him.

He instinctively reached to clear his shoulders and smooth his suit as ash began falling from the sky as it always did down there. The only surprise was when he touched his stomach, it didn’t hurt.

He would’ve been more shocked, had it not been exactly what he should be expecting. The reason it felt different, why touching his body felt different, why the way he was interacting with the world wasn’t the same, was because he wasn’t exactly in a body, was he?

No, his had stayed behind, topside. Back on Earth when he’d died.

Lucifer’s hand subconsciously fell to his stomach, but there was nothing there. His clothes weren’t torn or stained with blood, his skin wasn’t wounded, because it wasn’t really there. The suit he was wearing then, the skin he was seeing, it was just a projection of how he saw himself.

Now that he thought about it, crossing the planes as a soul had been different. It had felt like being pulled by a gravity much too strong, stronger than he’d ever seen, stronger than he could ever fight against. And as a soul, his wings were useless to stop his descent.

Lucifer shook his head. There was no point in pondering about such matters. He should be focusing on the now, the now being that he was stuck in Hell, without a body and without physical wings to get him out of there. The only thing he could do about it was walk, so walk he did. Walk away from the messy corridors to the – relative – safety of his palace. 

And Lucifer might be a soul, but the grey stones that made up Hell sure felt real beneath his feet. 

He crossed thousands of corridors, all terribly dull and grey, and always terribly the same. The same grey stone stretched from deep in Hell’s foundations to the very top of every corridor that filled the wasteland. It was all so very grey, all the hallways, every cloud in the sky, the constant ash that used to cling between his feathers.

The only things in Hell that weren’t grey were the doors.

They filled the walls of every corridor, every one of them different from the others. They varied in style. Some were modern, some were ancient, some were carved from woods that didn’t exist anymore, and some weren’t even made of wood. The only feature they all shared was that none of them were locked.

Only the worst of the worst, the ones his Dad Himself – or the new Angel of Justice that had taken his place after the Fall – had deemed beyond forgiving, those who were too powerful or too dreading, they were the only ones that got chains in their doors. Too dangerous it would be for them to leave their personal hell.

Lucifer froze, stopping dead on his tracks. He tried to imagine his door. How would it be? Would it resemble the ones they had in Heaven? You it be like the few ones he had at Lux? _Would it have chains? _ He didn’t really want to find out. As a soul, it would be hard to resist the doors pull.

It made him hurry, rushing in his way to his palace. Lucifer crossed dozens of hallways, all doors shaking, the screams of the damned filling the air as they all experienced their own personal torture. He tried to block it, all this pain and misery, he wasn’t going to stay for very long, after all, but it was hard. It was everywhere, Hell was built around torture, its very purpose to harbor the tortured.

It wasn’t going to be easy, getting back to Earth, to his body, to his Detective. Without a physical body, he couldn’t just use his wings to fly topside. The Pentecostal Coins were probably his best shot at resurrection, but they’d grown so scarce over the years with the amount of times he’d used them to go to Earth.

And of course his had gotten stuck with his body. Small miracles really were too much to ask for. His mouth still tasted bitter from his last words, from his plea to his Father. 

He’d been an idiot. _Stupid_, stupid Devil. He’d thought his Father might listen to him this time, he really did, but of course not. He hadn’t even cared enough to stop Raziel from killing His precious humans, had He? Of all people, why would he listen to his least favorite son after all...

The path Lucifer was taking wasn’t particularly important, not with all this hatred he was drowning on. He knew Hell’s corridors like the back of his hand after all those millennia walking them. It was all the same, all high stone walls with lined doors shaking with screams.

That being said, the open door with broken shackles was not supposed to be there.

Lucifer haltered in his steps, dread seeping into him. It’d crossed his mind for a second that that was his door, that he hadn’t been able to avoid it in the end. But the chain was broken, not just unshackled, and when he better assessed his surroundings, it dawned on him where he was, _whose_ door it was.

His steps were slow, tentatively reaching the threshold to examine it. Lucifer touched the hell-forged chains, but before he could do anything, he lost his ground.

He felt like he was being put on a centrifuge, like gravity was constantly shifting around him, pulling him in too many directions at once. And then he was being pulled up. Up, up, up.

Everything started to feel real again, physical. There were things wrapped around him, something solid pressed to his back, wetness drenching his front. He felt numb, stiff, cold. Weak.

Lucifer felt material, and then something began pounding inside him. It got louder and louder, stronger, and it made him feel warmer. It was slow at first, tentatively reaching all his limbs, and then it was Hellfire, bursting inside him all at once.

Lucifer breathed in, deep, and it didn’t smell of smoke.

* * *

She was kneeling down, her hands on Lucifer’s chest, dread seeping into her bones as she gazed upon Raziel, and then she wasn’t anymore. She was being pushed back, gravity disappeared, it all disappeared for a second, and then she fell on the ground, several feet back.

Chloe’s back hurt from the impact, Raziel’s push having sent her rolling away from Lucifer. Her eyes filled with tears and the air was knocked out of her lungs. The world blacked out for a second, and then Raziel’s steps echoed through the empty hangar, breaking her out of her pain.

“How dare you touch an Angel, you _filthy human_.” His voice filled the air, but not in the thundering way Lucifer’s had. It didn’t make the walls tremble, shake from raw power or cause her to cower with primal fear. It rang with disgust, with a snobby sense of superiority that seemed completely petty to her.

Chloe tried to sit up, but the adrenaline rush from facing Malcolm bottoming out. Her limbs all felt too heavy for her to lift, too heavy to even think about moving, but she wasn’t about to give Raziel the satisfaction, so she pushed through.

He stalked closer to Lucifer’s body and crouched, a scoff of all things leaving his grin. “Guess this saves me the trouble of getting rid of him.” Raziel kicked Lucifer with the tip of his shoe, and it made Chloe’s blood boil.

“He was your brother!” She fought back, getting up in wobbly legs. To both their surprises, her voice didn’t falter one bit. “How can you say that?!”

Her words made a vein pop up in Raziel’s forehead and he turned his steeling gaze upon her. 

Chloe didn’t cower. This was just another idiot who thought he had the right to run over Lucifer for having had the courage to stand up for himself all those millenniums ago. Just another stupid, feathered ass, like Lucifer had called them.

“Some angel you are...” Chloe scoffed, disgust filling her gaze and her tone. “But then again, you are responsible for at least six murders, so... And they call Lucifer the Devil.”

Raziel got up from his crouch, slowly stalking towards her with a wicked smile back in his face, barely managing to hide his anger. “Actually, I have you to thank for. I wouldn’t be here, about to finish my spell without your help.” He looked far too pleased with himself for her tastes, and his statement got her confused. How could she have helped him? And- and _finish_... the spell? 

Had he already started? 

The wicked smile he sent her way was answer enough. _This_ was their mark, this very moment, hers and Lucifer’s. This was the time they had to stop him, the perfect window to act, their only chance... But Chloe was alone, and so was Lucifer. Separated by the barrier of death. 

Soon enough Raziel would destroy everything she’d come to know.

“You see,” He continued, taking a final step her way, which brought him about halfway towards her. “The last thing I needed was a human soul.”

It really was a genius plan, she thought. Malcolm was a problem, a problem Raziel couldn’t handle on his own, at least not yet, and especially with Amenadiel turning on him. Waiting for them to kill Malcolm really was the perfect move.

Raziel had played them, and they fell for it.

Her feelings mixed up inside her, tossing and turning, overlapping each other. It was a mess. It was just a _mess_. And the worst was that Chloe didn’t know how to feel about all of that, but she was sure the sudden burst of light that began growing inside her soul was not it.

It grew and grew and grew, and it powered up her spark, that one spark that _he_ had given her. It lit the fire that had gone out inside her, filling the hole that had formed in her heart.

And Chloe _really_ couldn’t afford to be hopeful, not when it could all come crashing down on her, but hope was nothing but persistent.

“Now, what to do with you?” Raziel pondered as he began stepping closer to her, voice singsong. His finger began tapping at his chin until he was standing far too close, enough to cause her discomfort. Then it all came to a sudden stop, his steps and his finger, like an idea had just crossed his mind. “Guess I can just kill you after I free myself.”

His sick grin grew in his features, lighting him up with a dreadful glow. It was all she could see for a minute, her end, but then there was _something_ standing just behind his shoulder, and then Raziel wasn’t there anymore. He was flying across the hangar, his body hitting a row of metal shelves to her right until it all came crashing down.

And where he’d just been, Lucifer was standing. His beautiful brown eyes were burning bright red with all the flames of Hell, his posture stiff and exuding power and violence, but he was _alive_. He looked every bit the avenging angel he was made out to be.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

“Don’t you _dare_ touch her.” It came out as a growl, inhuman, the sound thundering through the air. A command filled with power, much like Raziel’s hadn’t.

Chloe couldn’t _believe_ what was happening right in front of her. She couldn’t help the hope that blossomed uncontrolled inside her, the relief that took over her entire being. A part of her had never really believed he was truly gone. Chloe had no idea what she would do if he was truly gone.

But he wasn’t. He was there, right in front of her, so maybe things weren’t lost after all.

His eyes locked with hers, their red dimming down until the brown flourished again. Lucifer had a tentative smile, but hers had completely taken over her face.

Relief. It was all she could feel.

“_How?_” Raziel roared as he stood up between all the metal rubble. The fear she could see in his eyes made Lucifer smirk.

“Yes, you know what humans say. ‘You can’t keep a good Devil down’.”

“Yes, you always were a plague no one could ever get rid of.” Raziel tried to counter, tried to look unaffected, but it was clear as day how Lucifer getting back up shook him, much more than he was willing to admit. “Well, with the exception of Father, of course.”

“Of course.” Lucifer scoffed, humoring his brother before the seriousness was back in his eyes. “Why are you doing this, Raziel? Having humans kill each other? Not very angelic of you.” He took a couple steps forward, placing his hands inside his pockets and getting that casual stance of his like nothing ever bothered him. It would be infuriating if she wasn’t just so glad he was alive and breathing.

“You have _no_ idea what Heaven is like now.” Raziel spat, his temper flaring back up, anger getting out of control.

“Thank Dad for that.” Lucifer scoffed, clearly meaning that as a joke, but the double meaning in his response wasn’t lost in either of them.

“_Thank him?! _ Well, that’d be easier if He actually bothered to be there and talk to any of us.”

A tense silence took over the atmosphere, and it made Lucifer grow awfully quiet while a chill loomed over her head. No easy comebacks, no laid-back responses, no mockery and no jokes escaped his lips, and Chloe was certain he knew more than he was letting on. She’d ask him about it _after_ they survived this, because they would.

“And the others put Camael in charge of the Silver City. _Camael!_” Raziel cried out with indignity, kicking a crate out of his way. With all the indignity, all the scoffs coming out of his lips, he made it out to be like the worst idea to ever be thought of.

Lucifer scoffed, his eyes finding the floor as a humorless smile spread over his lips. “And you think it should’ve been you.” He announced before rising his gaze to meet Raziel’s, a scoff escaping him.

“Yes! Of course it should’ve been me!” Raziel burst and took a quick step forward, his face turning red from the anger. He was more unbalanced then he let on, Chloe thought, much like Malcolm had been. He could be cold when running things, planning murders and scheming to take his brother out, but when things got out of his control, so did his temper. 

“Those idiots are too blind to see Father abandoned us. It’s time for a new God to rise.” His tone grew infinitely somber, and it made a chill run down her spine. For the first time since seeing Raziel, Chloe was afraid of him.

Of what could happen if he succeeded. Of what _would_ happen if he succeeded.

“See, I can’t let that happen.” Lucifer stated, any residual emotion that wasn’t seriousness completely vanishing. He took his hands out from his pockets and began fixing his cuffs, a nervous jitter Chloe had picked up on from all this time they knew each other, from all the ups and downs of their friendship, all their magic sessions.

“How is this any different from your rebellion, brother? All I want is to be free, same as you did.” Raziel tried to justify, his voice alluring as he began stepping closer to Lucifer. It was painful, physically so, watching him trying to convince Lucifer that they weren’t all that different, when in all truth, they couldn’t be more different even if they tried.

Chloe knew they were opposites, she just hoped Lucifer knew that, too. He had a way of always thinking the worst of himself, and it broke her every time.

“I wanted _free will_, the chance to make my own mistakes, to do what I wanted with my life. To be my own person. You... all you want is power.” Lucifer said, losing control of his emotions for a second. He looked away, hands tightening into fists for a second before he regained control and his posture stiffened, ready to fight. “You killed humans, Raziel. And now I’m going to punish you.”

In a split second, purple wings came forth and Raziel launched himself at Lucifer, a whoosh cutting through the air. His midnight wings unfurled next, surrounding him like a shield, intercepting Raziel’s launch with a sickening crack. 

It pushed Lucifer a couple steps back, but soon enough he was on top of Raziel, punches and feathers flying everywhere. It was hard to see what was going on exactly, with grunts and magic flowing between them both. It was almost a light show, watching the spells hit their wings and disappear into the air.

Chloe took in a deep breath, the faint smell of burnt feathers and blood filling the air, but that was beside the point. Which was that she could do it. They had practiced, they had prepared.

Maybe not as extensively or as thoroughly as she would’ve wanted to, but it was all they had managed. And she was ready. She had to be.

Chloe knew what to do.

Lucifer’s gaze found hers amidst all the mess, their brown filled with reassurance, like he somehow knew what she was about to do. He knew he had to buy her some time, keep Raziel busy. She trusted him to do that, to keep her safe while she casted the spell, so she closed her eyes, focusing away from the fighting sounds as Latin began to fall from her lips in a whisper.

It was hard to concentrate, especially when Lucifer cried in pain and it echoed through the entire hangar, but Chloe soldiered on. This was her way of helping, and she couldn’t stop.

She allowed her power to take over, and it grew and grew and grew, building up inside her, shaping into her will. It made her head feel light, almost like she was floating so high, too far from the floor to ground herself to reality.

The world became more. It was still the same, she was still in the hangar, she could still hear Lucifer and Raziel fight, she could smell the blood that had pooled on the floor, but it was more.

The astral plane, the Veil, it was filled with something else, some all-encompassing presence, an electrifying power that filled the air, making her hairs stand on end. The world was grey and crowded, and her ancestors came forward.

Chloe could feel the power growing inside her, shaping the spell up, its size ten times what it had been before. It made her feel powerful, like she had a restless surge of energy yearning to be set loose.

It also made it harder and harder to stand up, her mind so light it made her legs tremble. Chloe felt ghostly hands reaching out to her, barely there, so light they felt on her, but they prickled and made her skin crawl. It has getting hard to focus, walking between the planes, having ancestors pulling her soul this way and that, giving her their power while trying to drag her away from Earth.

It was hard to resist, just like Lucifer had said. Taking the power from the Veil, it made a chill run through her body, as if her entire life force was so focused in shaping the power she had gathered inside her, it couldn’t do what it was meant to do, which was keep her alive. A wave of nausea settled in close to her spell, and it gave her enough clarity to reach for her anchor.

Her dad’s old police ring, the one he always wore and had remade once his finger had gotten too big for it to fit. Chloe had tied it on a chord, making a makeshift necklace so she could carry it everywhere. It wasn’t just her anchor, it was her motivation, the physical prove of what had led her to become a police officer.

But when she rose her hand to take it, the blood covering her palm made Chloe stop. Her hand reached for the blue, raw stone, instead, the one Lucifer had given her, the embodiment of their relationship, their magic.

Her eyes rose to the fight despite the grey surrounding her, and somehow Lucifer’s gaze found hers. In the middle of all the punches and the kicks and the feathers and the grunts, brown eyes met hers, so sure and confident in her. Chloe remembered him, vividly so, telling her about the importance of having an anchor, how it had to be something she had a strong connection to, the greater the feelings the better.

And now she could feel it. Feel the spirits pulling her, taking her away from her home, her job, her friends, him.

Her eyes fell back to the blood coating her hands, the red surrounding the blue stone that matched the color of her eyes so perfectly, too perfectly for it to just have been a coincidence on his part. And the spark Lucifer had placed in her burned brighter than it ever had before.

So Chloe closed her eyes, her dad’s old ring forgotten. This wasn’t about work or crime, it was about magic. And the only thing filling her mind in the moment was him. Lucifer was her anchor.

She reached for that light inside her and finished the spell, the ancestors forgotten.

A shuddering wave of energy burst out of her, making the world gain its colors back. The grey was gone, the hands prickling her arms were gone, and it made her sway in place. When she opened her eyes, Raziel was on the ground, screaming in pain.

He had blood running down his face, his robes ruffled and wrinkled. He had a hand wrapped around his middle, and despite the pain, he was trying to escape.

Chloe increased the power of the spell, and it rendered him useless on the floor, screaming and holding onto himself.

Lucifer took slow steps towards Raziel, taking his time to catch his breath. His own clothes were worse for wear, hair askew and the beginnings of a bruise forming on his cheek. The spell was wearing her down fast, draining her of all her magic, and he caught onto it. 

He said quick words, then his fist connected with Raziel’s face and he was out.

Chloe cut the spell immediately, and it made her sway on her feet. She blinked, and for a second her grandma was there, standing in front of her. She looked exactly like Chloe remembered and she had a gentle smile, but then Chloe blinked again and she was gone.

Lucifer was standing in her place, beaming smile directed at her. His hands reached out to her arms to keep her steady, his eyes filled with pride. “You did it.” He said, voice reverent.

She wanted to correct him, _they_ had done it, but she was feeling too dizzy, so she settled for a smile instead. Until her eyes fell to the red staining his dark shirt. Concern flooded her back, the same paralyzing fear that had taken over her when she thought he was... when he was...

Chloe gulped down, focusing on the now, on the sound of his breathing, on his warm hands on her arms, on his presence, bright and alive, right in front of her. But no matter how much she wanted to just hug him and forget all about this night, she couldn’t. Her concerns weren’t going anywhere.

Her hands went to his waist, fisting the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt. Chloe felt him steeling under her scrutiny, stiffening under her touch. “I thought Malcolm had killed you.” She breathed out slowly, afraid that somehow her words would make it real. That Lucifer would disappear right in front of her and she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Her eyes found his, boring deeply in their beautiful brown, and she could see the shock there, the residual fear and pain.

“Oh, yes, he did.” Lucifer tried, going for the easy way out with humor, but the concern in her features caused him to sober up right away. “I got better.”

Chloe breathed out, her hands moving from his waist to press on his chest, while his instinctively fell to her waist. She decided not to push on the subject. It had to be enough, feeling him there beneath her palms, warm and solid. _Alive_. There would be better times for that, when they didn’t have two murderers on the ground.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead.” Chloe confessed, her fingers curling on his chest before stretching and pressing back again. She really had to hug him, to feel him there, between her arms, to make sure he was real and not going anywhere, but the intensity that had taken over his eyes was hard to look away from. “You promised you’d let me go alone.” She scolded him without any burn to it, her focus solely in his eyes.

“But I didn’t say anything about following.” He argued back, petulant, but he had that small smile Chloe liked to think was just for her. Lucifer looked absolutely adorable for a second, with that pout in his lips.

In all fairness, she was eternally grateful that he had found the loophole and followed her. Not that Chloe would be telling him that. While she appreciated it, she wouldn’t be supporting his reckless behavior.

Lucifer’s smile was playing around his lips, and his eyes had that dark glee of hidden emotions in them, the yearning that he didn’t completely understand or wasn’t sure to act on. But Chloe could see something else in them, something that was troubling him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and it came out breathier than she had intended, but she couldn’t help it with how close to her he was standing, those brown eyes bored in hers. 

He didn’t say a word, his lips stayed unmoving, and Chloe guessed it had to do with dying and coming back. He was probably not ready to talk about it just yet.

His hands pressed more fully into her waist, drawing her just that sliver closer to him. It made her look up to meet his eyes, his beautiful, full, emotion-filled, brown eyes. And Chloe thought he was about to kiss her, she really wanted him to kiss her. Lucifer lowered his head, his breath ghosting over her lips, his own falling open like he wanted to say something...

But he didn’t get the chance.

Dan grunted in the distance, finally starting to regain consciousness. It made Lucifer step away from her so fast she thought he must have gotten whiplash from it. His eyes stayed trained on the floor, hands going straight into his pockets and clearing his throat.

Chloe felt guilty for thinking about it, she really did, but she couldn’t help wondering how Dan really had the _worst_ timing.

“Right.” Lucifer said, loudly clapping his hands and effectively killing any moment that might have happened between them. “I should get Raziel out of here before your Police arrives. Amenadiel will take him back to Heaven.”

Chloe hadn’t even had time to think of anything to say before Lucifer grabbed Raziel and vanished into thin air.

* * *

His feet landed on the balcony, his balance perfect from years of practice despite the recent return of his wings and Raziel’s added weight. Below him, the city was bursting with life, traffic was heavy despite the late hour and Lux was booming with the latest party. Lucifer had never been so grateful to step into the quietness of his penthouse.

There was a reason he’d chosen to live in the middle of a loud city, surround himself with people and booming music. The quiet usually made him anxious. Heaven had been quiet, as had Hell – if you disregarded the screams of the damned, of course. And there was something about the constant buzzing, the livingness, the bright colors, that was just so... _Earth_.

On most days, Lucifer would be more than happy to go downstairs to his club and indulge on his desires, take his mind out from whatever part of his past that was troubling him in the moment, and just mingle with the humans, pretend to be one of them. Pretend his life was simple. On most days, he’d be craving that.

Now, all he wanted was to get out of there and back into that hangar, where he’d left his Detective alone. 

Lucifer walked in, carelessly dropping Raziel to the floor on his way to his bar. The crash was loud enough to wake Amenadiel, who had been sleeping on his couch.

“Ah! Sleeping on the job?” He commented as he hurried to pour himself a drink, his hands stiff from all the punches he’d been forced to land on his brother.

Amenadiel slowly sat up, his mind still think from the thick fog of sleep. He examined the inexistent wound to his abdomen before meeting Lucifer’s eyes. “Luci, we still have to find Malcolm...” He began, voice groggy from sleep and looking every bit ready to give a long speech.

“Malcolm, yes. That’s dealt with.” Lucifer nodded to an unconscious Raziel on the floor, his focus laser-like on his drink. He took a sip, the scotch burning its way down his throat in a calming, familiar feeling. “It’s old news, really.” He said offhandedly, his eyes falling shut. 

Lucifer took a second to appreciate the moment. No siblings threatening his life on Earth, no siblings threatening life on Earth in general, no demon bartenders coming for his neck. Just the familiar burning of scotch warming his throat. He let out a calming sigh, but it was short lived.

Amenadiel slowly got up from the couch, his eyes shifting from Raziel to Lucifer’s blood stained shirt. “Where’s Maze?” He asked instead, confused but hopeful at the same time. Lucifer simply rose an eyebrow, his mind wondering what the deal was with those two before he decided it wasn’t his business.

“Well, I was gonna ask you the same question. Perhaps your snoring drove her away.” Lucifer spat, which made Amenadiel roll his eyes before sitting back down. 

Lucifer filled his glass to the brim, took a small sip and filled it back up again before taking it to his favorite armchair with him.

“I spoke to Dad.” He decided to break the news all at once, freeing that breath that had been stuck on his throat ever since it had happened finally being let loose. The shock so evident in Amenadiel’s face was, well, Lucifer would like to say unexpected, but this was him they were talking about, so.

“Excuse me?” He asked, shifting to the edge of his seat.

“Yeah, I offered him my services in exchange f-” Lucifer cut himself in the middle, taking a large gulp from his drink to stop the words from spilling from his mouth. There was absolutely no reason for Amenadiel to know about that bit of the deal, not when Lucifer himself didn’t know what to think of it. Telling him would only help spreading the information to people he’d rather not know. “Well, that doesn’t really matter. He accepted.”

A full minute passed where Amenadiel stayed still, more so than a statue. His lips were sealed, eyes staring at Lucifer like he was being pranked. Maybe Heaven really was as screwed up as Raziel had made it out to be, Lucifer thought while sipping his drink, if Amenadiel’s incredulity at someone talking to Father was anything to go by.

“He replied to you.” Amenadiel deadpanned, not believing a word coming out of his mouth, but not exactly ruling out the option yet.

“Hmm. Well, not in words. But His message was clear.” Lucifer said slowly, the image of the open door haunting his awake mind. It made a chill run down his spine, something that had rarely happened before, and his answer was to drown it in alcohol.

“And what does Father want?” Amenadiel asked, his mind halfway convinced it was the truth, despite him acting like he was only humoring Lucifer with the question. But Lucifer could see it, lingering in the back of Amenadiel’s eyes, this need he had to fulfil all of Daddy’s tasks and please him like a goody little angel.

Maybe Lucifer was right. Maybe Amenadiel was seeing this, this deal he had made with Father, as a way to regain Dad’s trust or something. To not be punished for aiding in the deaths of humans and resurrecting one psycho.

It was a sick move on Amenadiel’s part, one filled with hidden agendas, but it would be working on his favor this time...

“Someone escaped Hell. Must’ve seen a window of opportunity whilst you were incapacitated.” Lucifer explained, throwing the blame on Amenadiel since he was so keen in taking this responsibility onto himself. Fixing this wasn’t something Lucifer was keen on doing, exactly. He was only concerned about drowning this crescent fear of his in scotch. “I think He wants me to bring our jailbird back.”

“That’s it?” Amenadiel asked, his tone sounding almost disappointed. “Well, it shouldn’t be too hard to track one single errant soul.” He said, leaning back on the cushions maybe a little too pleased.

Lucifer on the other hand, leaned back in a desperate attempt to calm his erratic mind. He gulped down his drink, needing something to keep busy with while his eyes stayed trained on the floor, or on anywhere that wasn’t his brother. _How he wished_ this would be as simple as Amenadiel had made it out to be.

“You’re afraid.” It was more of a statement than a question, but the underlying question mark hanged heavy over Lucifer’s head. Worry was growing between Amenadiel’s eyebrows, but it was nothing compared to the worry that had taken residence inside him.

“Hmm.” Lucifer only made a somewhat agreeing noise. He hated to admit it, but there was no hiding it. It was taking over him completely, the longer he thought about it, the worse it got. “Damn right I am.” He resorted to fiddling with his empty glass, wishing with every bit of himself that it was still empty.

“Right, but you’re never afraid. Who could possibly scare you, brother?”

Lucifer didn’t bother answering that. His eyes found the darkness outside the windows of his penthouse, the glimmering city lights reminding him of his stars. But it wasn’t the same. Those lights got him anxious instead of calming him down.

If only Amenadiel knew how afraid he was, how terrified he had been only moments ago, fighting for his and the Detective’s lives at that hangar... Lucifer wished he was what Amenadiel thought of him as. It would make his life ten times easier.

“Lucifer...” Amenadiel stressed out his name, dread seeping into his tone for the first time that night. It attracted Lucifer’s unsure eyes to his, getting both brothers on the edge of their seats. “Who escaped Hell?”

“_Mum_.”

It was a simple word, only one syllable and three letters long, and yet it rocked Amenadiel down to his core. It was a word that carried so much, almost too much meaning, too many possibilities. And the fear Lucifer felt began being reflected in his brother as well.

“How is that even possible- I...” Amenadiel stuttered, shocked words escaping his lips. He was quiet for a moment, before his ‘Soldier Amenadiel’ look came back, and he seemed right about ready to discuss this until the end of time, and that was precisely what Lucifer didn’t have to waste at the moment.

“Take Raziel back to the Silver City, will you. Let Father handle him.” Lucifer said before standing up and walking towards his balcony, leaving his empty glass at the coffee table on his way out. He spared one last look to the Archangel of the Occult, his misguided brother that had almost ended everything, before turning around and taking one last deep breath.

“What about you?” Amenadiel asked as he stepped into the balcony, hand gingerly covering his abdomen.

“I’m going back to the hangar. The Detective is still there.” Lucifer’s final words were drowned by the consuming sounds of the hustling city beneath him. He flapped his wings once and vanished into the night.

* * *

Chloe felt his presence right by her shoulder only seconds before the first police cruisers drove through the open gates of the airport hangar.

She was helping Dan stand up. He was still confused from being knocked out, but the cuffs were off and the cut on his temple had stopped bleeding, so it was a start. Chloe turned around to look at Lucifer with a half-smile, which he responded almost immediately. His hand briefly went to the small of her back, the touch too brief for her to be sure if it had really happened or if she’d just imagined it.

Her eyes fell to the painfully obvious bullet hole in the middle of his black button up shirt and the sickening red stain that accompanied it, and Lucifer got the message. He closed his jacket just as the officers started filling the hangar, now turned crime scene.

The once quiet space became crowded in a moment. Officers were walking around, detectives piling around Malcolm’s body while CSI took pictures and analyzed. Soon enough, Chloe was swept away by officers and detectives for a statement, all of them looking at her sideways, already jumping to conclusions before she could explain what had happened.

It became too much all too soon. Too many questions, too many people that hated her judging her for every little thing, too many blinding lights just blinking and blinking and blinking... It was giving her the worst headache. Chloe pressed her thumbs in her eye sockets, hoping the pain would go away, but she had never been that lucky.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, floating from person to person, until she could find the one she wanted. She saw Dan at the back of an ambulance being checked out, but her eyes were on the look for a pair of soft, brown ones, not blue.

Chloe spotted Lucifer easily enough because of his height, towering above all the ones around him, standing higher than anyone else. Her feet took her to him before she could make the conscious decision to walk, as if her subconscious knew it was his company that she was craving, exactly what she needed to calm down and settle back into her center.

Lucifer was leaning on the hood of her cruise, Lieutenant Monroe by his side. They were chatting, but it was more than obvious how the Lieutenant was more interested in him than anything else. It made her... _slightly_ jealous...? Which was wrong, _very_ wrong, but... she hadn’t imagined the moment – for the lack of a better word – that had happened between them earlier.

She was jealous and it was _bad_.

But his posture changed when he saw her, an open smile that completely took over his eyes as he watched her approach, and it made a matching one grow in her.

“Well, well. Speak of the devil.” The Lieutenant said as Chloe neared them, also noticing Lucifer’s focus being completely ripped away from her. Chloe let out a huff, Olivia really had no idea how right she was. “Mr. Morningstar here was just telling me everything you did here.”

“_Right_. Well, Lieutenant...” Chloe started, undoubtedly needing to do damage control. There was no telling what Lucifer could have told her. And while she was okay with him being himself and all his Lucifer-ness – supported it, actually... The woman was her _boss_.

“I was just telling your boss if you hadn’t acted in the way you did, then, well, all Hell would’ve broken loose. Isn’t that right?” He said, thousand watt smug grin directed at her. That was... quite truthful, even if the Lieutenant couldn’t exactly understand the hidden meaning in Lucifer’s words.

“Right. Absolutely.” Chloe blurted out, not exactly sure on what to do with herself there. The Lieutenant seemed completely enthralled by Lucifer, and she couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad one.

“But, despite the unfortunate ending, Malcolm won’t be hurting anyone else, so that’s the main thing.”

The Lieutenant nodded fervently, eyes totally focused on Lucifer. Chloe didn’t know how he did it, but it was kind of embarrassing to watch people just melting under his gaze and spilling their secrets to him.

“Well, I couldn’t have stopped him without Lucifer’s help.” Chloe said, giving credit where it was due. It attracted Lucifer’s eyes to hers, a soft edge to them that complimented his smile quite nicely.

She could understand the feeling. It was good to be needed, to be appreciated. She should tell him that more often. Chloe had a feeling his family hadn’t told him enough.

“This isn’t the first case he’s assisted you with, or so I’m told.” The Lieutenant said, her eyes slipping to where Ella was staking pictures along with her forensics team. Chloe felt her blood freeze in her veins, fear that she’d screwed up and it would end really bad taking over her, but Olivia’s smile turned into a smirk and not even a second later she was back at musing over Lucifer again. Lucifer smiled back, but he didn’t seem as comfortable as he would usually be. It wasn’t something she could have noticed from afar, but up close, it was easy enough to read him. “I see you keeping such an asset just to yourself, Decker.”

It made Lucifer perk up immediately, smug grin at full power directed at her as he casually leaned back on the hood of her car. Chloe could almost see all the jokes, and the innuendos, and all they ways to annoy her or tease her that he was coming up with gleaming through his eyes. All of them gathering into an arsenal to be unleashed upon her later.

“Again, I’m sorry that you got caught in this, Mr. Morningstar.” The Lieutenant apologized, reaching to place a hand on his forearm and regain his attention, completely oblivious to the silent conversation he was having with Chloe.

“Oh, it’s quite alright. I couldn’t just let the Detective go in without backup, could I?” Lucifer said, his eyes slipping away to meet hers. Their brown shone with vulnerability, a small smile coming forth, until it all felt like too much for him and he looked away, back to the Lieutenant, and worked up his charms just that extra bit. Little did he know that he didn’t need to use his mojo at all to be charming. “And call me Lucifer.”

“_Lucifer_.” The Lieutenant repeated, her voice wavering while her focus was solely on him. Her tone was thick, as if she was lost in a deep fog. “Thank you for all of your help. With this and the previous cases.”

“You are so welcome.” Lucifer purred, smile alluring, but it didn’t reach his eyes, not truly.

Olivia smiled back, too engrossed in him for a moment to notice it was the time to walk away. “Bye now.” Lucifer said, and it jolted her back to the moment. Olivia gave them both a curt nod before she turned around to talk to some unis. 

Lucifer turned his smug gaze back at her, and Chloe’s eye roll was impossible to avoid. She smacked his shoulder playfully, a smile firmly in place in her features. She’d only been around him for a couple of minutes, but that headache was at the back of her mind now, working its way into being forgotten.

Chloe was about to say something to him, whether it was a snarky comment or another thank you she didn’t know, but it was at the tip of her tongue, and Dan approaching made her stutter until her lips fell shut.

Lucifer grew quiet by her side as well, his carefree attitude of only moments ago now stripped away as Dan took his last steps towards them. He stood up from the hood and resumed his usual position by her shoulder.

“Hey.” She said, voice weak, and Dan nodded in acknowledgement, but stopped in front of the Lieutenant instead. It got Chloe confused as to the why.

Olivia quickly wrapped up her conversation with the officer before turning to Dan. “Espinoza, nice to see you’re already back up on your feet.” She said, her hand reaching up to land on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Lieutenant, but I’m here to turn myself in.”

The Lieutenant’s eyes widened and her hand fell down, the officers she was talking to before turning to see what was happening, confused looks in their faces. Chloe turned to look at Lucifer, and she found a matching expression in him, too.

“Dan, what are you doing?” She asked. Dan met her eyes for only a second, before his gaze fell away with what she read as shame clouding his blue eyes.

“I removed a firearm from evidence lockup and gave it to Detective Malcolm Graham. I believe Detective Graham then used that weapon to shoot and kill Detective Torres and Officer Jackson, the crimes that... Detective Decker is suspected of.” Dan recited and it spurred the officer by his side to take action immediately and start cuffing him.

The Lieutenant for once looked surprised beyond words, which was a first, but not even that was enough to render Lucifer speechless. At this point, Chloe didn’t think anything could.

“Well, Daniel, I didn’t know you had it in you.” Lucifer said, his surprise down to his tone. He placed his hands in his pockets and gave Dan a quick, courteous nod. Apparently there was a first time for everything.

That was what Lucifer and she had been doing mere hours ago, trying to prove her innocence. Chloe knew it was Malcolm that had killed both police members, she had never guessed Dan would be the one involved in it, too. And on the other side, nonetheless.

“No more Detective Douche?” He remarked lightly, making Lucifer huff. Chloe on the other hand, was still too busy trying to understand what had just happened to try to buff any enmity between those two.

“Well, not today at least.”

All eyes turned their way, every single officer interested or surprised with what was happening, and still, Chloe couldn’t wrap her head around it.

“Dan, why would you do that?” She asked, or demanded, it didn’t matter. She just had to know. She had to know what had made Dan help Malcolm hurt even more people, because he wouldn’t on his own. There had to be a good explanation to all of this.

“Malcolm was blackmailing me. He knew I was there at Palmetto and...” Dan rushed out an explanation, but his words didn’t make any sense. Or they shouldn’t have made, in a perfect world.

But this wasn’t it. It was imperfect, and it all made perfect sense.

“It was you who shot him?” The words left her lips in an uncertain whisper, and she felt Lucifer growing stiff by her side.

The regret that took over Dan was confirmation enough, and it made her want to throw up. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I only shot him to protect you.”

“Everything I saw at Palmetto, it was all true.” It burst out of her, the words exploding out of her mouth, and Chloe _hated_, she really did, that she had tears in her eyes. It made her voice wobbly, but no less powerful. “You let them think I was crazy!”

“I never intended...” Dan tried to apologize, to undoubtedly make her see how this couldn’t be his fault. It was what he always did, but Chloe interrupted him this time, so sick she was of his excuses.

“You let me think I was crazy.” It came out as a broken whisper, all the fight, all the adrenaline, leaving her body at once. Chloe felt small, defeated, spent.

Lucifer’s hand rose to the small of her back, the comforting touch making her let out a breath. It was the physical proof of his support of her, the proof that he would be there, by her side, no matter what. And it was the only thing that was keeping her together, keeping her from falling to the ground and breaking down into a million little pieces.

“I’m sorry.” Dan tried again, his eyes fixed on the floor and his shoulders slumped, but Chloe couldn’t bring herself to trust a word that came out of his mouth.

“You don’t get to be sorry. You covered for Malcolm to save your own ass.” It came out harsher than Chloe had intended, but considering everything, maybe it wasn’t harsh enough.

“Well, I guess we’re back to Detective Douche after all.” Lucifer remarked, the disdain painfully evident in his tone.

Chloe couldn’t look up when the officers led Dan away, she couldn’t look up when the Lieutenant placed a sorry hand on her shoulder, and she couldn’t look up when all the eyes were turned to her. She just _really_ needed this day to be over.

* * *

The last steps to the Detective’s beach house were the hardest ones to climb. Lucifer slowly approached her door, the dark night settling above him, with the sea breeze sweeping back the messy, wind-blown hair he always got when he drove the corvette too fast.

His hands ran down his tight waistcoat. It had been a last minute addition to his look, an impulsive addition. It had been stupid of him, thinking a thin piece of cloth would hold his blood inside him were he to be shot again.

Lucifer knew he was mostly avoiding it, knocking on the door. The very thing he’d gone there to do. But it was stupid and he shouldn’t even be there in the first place.

He’d just seen her, after all, only a couple hours ago when they’d left the hangar. There really was no reason for him to be there, knocking at her door, especially at such late hour, and it was that thought exactly that made him turn around in his heels and climb down the steps.

But once his shoe hit the sand, he froze. A curse fell from his lips, followed by a groan, and then he climbed back the stairs, but stopped just short of knocking, his fist raised and only an inch away from the door.

It was ridiculous that his hand was trembling from anxious energy. Lucifer had done this before, many times, _multiple_ times, really, so why was this so difficult?

He was bent on leaving by then, so he turned around and headed for the stairs for a second time. The door opened with a creak before he could reach them, though, and Lucifer haltered in his steps. He turned around and his eyes met a tired looking Detective.

“Lucifer?” She asked, uncertain. The Detective lit up the porch light hanging over his head and opened the door more fully, wrapping her arms around herself to try to keep the chilly wind away from her.

“Detective! Fancy seeing you here.” Lucifer replied like an idiot, a stupid smile plastered on his face. Oh, how he wanted to punch himself at that moment.

“I live here.” The Detective deadpanned, confused with his question. “You need something?”

Lucifer took a second to take her in, _really_ take her in. It was obvious how the day was still weighting on her, how all those sleepless nights were taking their toll on her body and mind. It was even clearer once he stopped to consider her clothes. Grey sweatpants and an old navy blue LAPD t-shit. _Sleeping_ clothes. He shouldn’t have come.

“It’s late. I should go.” He hurried an answer, half turning around and pointing at his car in her driveway. “I apologize for waking you.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t.” The Detective said before he could leave, and Lucifer tentatively turned around. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.” She gave him a tired smile that he knew all too well.

He could feel it as well. After the adrenaline had lost its power, after all his troubles had been dealt with, after they were both safe... a tiredness he had never known before had seeped into his bones, weighting him down. And even though his angelic constitution didn’t require much sleep, this time he craved it.

But the Detective leaned her shoulder on the doorframe, silently asking him to stay, and he had never been able to never deny her a thing, had he?

“Right.” Lucifer stuttered. It was the only thing that made its way out of his mouth, his mind already back at what he’d gone there to do. The mere thought of it made his heart speed up, that same nervous energy he always had around her resurfacing. 

“What is it?” She asked, open and honest. Her hand twitched by her side, and Lucifer just knew that if he was close enough, she’d have reached out to him. His hand, his wrist, whichever was closer by. And knowing that, it made him just that extra nervous. Because if he knew her that well...

Lucifer let out a deep breath. He’d gone there with only one thing in mind, so he might as well stop being a coward and get it done.

“Right.” Lucifer said more to himself than to her this time and took a step forward, determined, his eyes trained on hers. Then he took another step, and another, and he kept on taking them.

Confusion took over her ocean blue eyes until he was standing close enough that his intentions could not be mistaken. He could almost feel her entire body on his, feel her heart speeding along with his, feel her breath on his neck. 

To Lucifer’s surprise and eternal delight, _Chloe_ stood on her tiptoes and her lips met his halfway.

It was... _electrifying_. Kissing her, it made him feel _a lot_, things he had never felt before, things he’d forgotten how to feel. It spurred on his chest, growing and growing, taking over his entire being. It spread like a flame, consuming him, but unlike Hellfire, it didn’t burn. It was so much more.

Kissing her was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. It was calming and reassuring, and easily the best idea he’d ever had before. 

He felt her tongue running along his lower lip and he opened up to her, deepening their kiss. Her lip was soft when he pulled it between his teeth, and Lucifer didn’t think he could ever forget that feeling. And when she curled her tongue on his... it made him moan, the sound deep in the back of his throat.

Chloe’s hands tightened on his waist and it made his head feel light. But then she threaded her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping at his scalpel as she pulled at his curls, and he groaned, his knees so weak he wasn’t sure how he was still standing up.

One of his hands rose to softly cup her cheek, a deep contrast to this fire that was consuming him. The one at the small of her back pulled her as close to him as possible, so desperate Lucifer was to feel her, to make sure she was there, really there. Safe.

She reluctantly broke their kiss, and Lucifer could feel his own lungs burning with the lack of oxygen, but he chased her lips anyway with a whine leaving his throat. Chloe pressed her forehead to his and took deep breaths, her eyes glowing, matching perfectly the brilliant smile brightening her features. 

No one could ever look as beautiful as she did in that moment.

“I should have done this sooner.” His voice came out raspy, rough and out of breath from kissing her. It made Chloe laugh, and it lit up his entire world.

“Yeah, you definitely should’ve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a journey! This took me so long to write that i’m feeling orphaned now that it’s over ;-;
> 
> i had promised myself i’d never write anything this big again, so i probably should say that i had an outline for what i’d like to do with the other seasons... I left several openings in this one in case i decide to continue. 
> 
> Anyway! Thank you all so much for all your support and kind comments! It was a delight reading and replying to each one of them. You guys are amazing!
> 
> Wish me luck on the last prompt for my bingo card ;)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading <3  
Comments and kudos highly appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://thiefintheshadowsyo.tumblr.com/)  
Come by say hi!


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